A Promise That Will Be Kept
by Viridian
Summary: In the aftermath of the North Star Cup, Touya Akira continues to ponder the mystery of Shindou Hikaru. Will that 'someday' for explanations arrive, or will it be unnecessary after all? As a rival, and as a friend, the search for the truth continues.
1. Prologue: Always Beside You

Disclaimer: The setting and characters for this story are taken from Hotta Yumi's and Obata Takeshi's Hikaru no Go.

Author's preamble: This story takes up immediately at the end of chapter 189. I've tried to keep Japanese terms to a minimum; I will use only suffixes and Go terms, despite the tempting "Onegaishimasu" (as used before a Go match) and 'harisen' (the fan that Yashiro uses to wake up Akira and Hikaru as they nod off during speed go games).

Prologue: Always Beside You

_To link the far past with the far future … that is why I am here._

_Can you hear … my voice?_

The faintest breath of a whisper sighed through the silent room, unheard and unheeded, as the young Japanese representatives to the North Star Cup marched toward the exit of the game room.

_I am still here._

_And I am watching ... I will always be watching ..._

An ethereal arm stretched out fondly as if to reassure one of the dejected-looking boys. He walked right through the arm, but as he went past, a gentle smile played on those delicate purple lips. Despite the slight hunch in his shoulders and the slow, tired walk, the boy's eyes were piercing – they burned with passion and admitted no defeat.

_You are stronger than you were yesterday …. You are stronger than you were before you started this game…. One day, you will be stronger than me…_

_You will walk boldly towards the Hand of God. And, although you will never know, I will be walking beside you._

_I wish there was a way I could tell you … I am proud of you, Hikaru. _


	2. Chapter 1: Calming of Turbulent Thoughts

Chapter 1: Calming of Turbulent Thoughts

Touya Akira looked back at the boy who sat silent and unmoving in his seat, both hands clenching a fan that lay across his lap. His head hung over an empty Goban, as if unwilling to let the game end.

"Let's go, Shindou. This isn't the end. There is no end."

Shindou had taken the loss hard. It was not surprising, surmised Akira, as the boy had been simmering in a barely-controlled rage after hearing Korea's first board, Ko Yeong-Ha, slight the legendary Shuusaku. He had taken the opening ceremony's speech as a direct challenge and fought for the chance to battle for Shuusaku's honour on the first board. Personally, Akira hadn't minded the switch, although he would have welcomed the opportunity to test his strength against one of Korea's top pros. No, he had sensed that this battle was somehow intensely important to Shindou, and that Shindou had been willing to take the public outrage and flak at having pushed Akira off the first board position just for the chance. He himself understood this sentiment well ... it was with a similar passion that he had barged into the Kaio Junior High School Go club, despite how obviously unwelcome he was, and insisted on playing third board against Shindou so many years ago. Two years and eleven months, to be exact.

_Why am I still keeping count?_

Well, since he was obviously still keeping count, it had been three years and ... hmmm ... five months since their first, fateful meeting at his father's Go salon. How things have changed since then ... only the mystery surrounding Shindou remained, as veiled and enigmatic as ever. Their conversation at their first pro match not withstanding, there was a complexity to the boy that he had never been able to fathom.

The answer that he had reluctantly, painfully come up with did not answer anything, only bringing with it an even deeper mystery. Shindou's roundabout confirmation of his conclusion at that time, if even that, only intrigued him more. Despite his pleas and demands, no explanation had been forthcoming. "I might tell you about it someday," Shindou had said then. And though their exchange had deteriorated into childish name-calling soon afterwards, he had felt the sincerity in those words and the strange bond of trust that formed in that strange, strange conversation assured him that that someday would come, one day.

That Sai and Shindou were one and yet oddly separate, there was no question in his mind. He did not want to think more deeply on that; it only confused him more. And now, he had to throw Shuusaku into the pot as well. Set at low heat, stir well, and ...

_Argh ... my brain's turning into slush. Stop thinking about this._

A chair scraped against the tiled floor, and he looked back at Shindou. The boy had stood up, fan grasped firmly in one hand and eyes slightly downcast. _The loss has pained him, but he will be stronger for it_, Akira thought as he waited for Shindou to catch up. _It will drive him forward, and that in turn will drive me forward as well._ Shindou's first few steps were hesitant, but he soon picked up his pace and straightened his back. Akira turned towards Yashiro and followed the mass of people out of the game room.

_Yes, there is no end. The first Hokuto Cup has drawn to a close, but there will be a second, and a third, as long as there are people to follow in our footsteps. Into the far future, indeed ..._

_--------------------------------_

He had lost.

Despite his proud, brash words, he had lost to a guy who held no respect for the incredible genius that was Sai. The bitterness of that defeat gnawed at him, and he raged at his own weakness, his inability to salvage his mentor's – and friend's – honour. If Sai were here, there was no doubt that Ko Yeong-Ha would have suffered a crushing defeat. But only he knew Sai ... Shuusaku's body had lain in a grave for over a hundred years, and Sai's spirit had disappeared almost exactly one year ago – now, the only proof of Sai's existence and indomitable strength was his own Go, and today, his Go had failed.

Hikaru's eyes narrowed.

No, his Go did not fail. He had played his best, and he had lost to a stronger player. It was no different – should be no different – from a loss to Touya, or Morashita-sensei, for that matter. Only his pride was injured – it stung painfully, but he knew this pain well. In his mind's eye, he could still see the furious disappointment in Touya's glare during their match at Kaio Junior High and the off-hand disdain when they came face-to-face again in the summer when Sai made his appearance in the world of internet Go. He had grown rapidly then, and now would be no different.

Sai's Go had taken root in him, and if it had not bloomed in time for this match against Ko Yeong-Ha, it would blossom one day – and that one day would not too late to remind that insolent bastard (very, very forcefully) that Shuusaku's legacy was relevant for the ages. He'd see to it that Ko Yeong-Ha would be sent packing straight for the nearest volume of Shuusaku's kifus.

Loss by half a moku. In a way, it was his near win that frustrated him most. He had been _that_ close to shoving Shuusaku back at Ko Yeong-Ha's face, but he had missed it by a mere half moku. Hikaru tightened his grasp on the fan as his determination strengthened. At the next North Star Cup, he'd make sure it would be an overwhelming victory. A measly half moku win would not be enough for him.

The barest wisp of a breeze brushed against his hair and seemed to push away the oppressive, stagnant weight of the air in the room. Hikaru closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to compose himself for the closing ceremony. He wondered if he was going to be pelted with rotten fruit on the way there. Like it or not, Touya was extremely popular among Go fans, and they would not have taken it lightly that he had forced his way to the first board position. And even if he escaped a furious hail of miscellaneous debris today, the ever loud and annoying Kitajima-san, a regular patron of Touya's Go salon, would make sure to have something overripe on hand for his next visit.

Hikaru's brow furrowed, and he let out a small sigh.

_--------------------------------_

Akira heard the sigh and turned around to glance at Hikaru with a questioning look on his face.

"What?" Hikaru asked in a low, slightly surly voice.

A pause, and then, "I guess there's no need to worry."

"Why would I need you to worry over me?" Hikaru declared somewhat irritably and looked off to the side.

Akira decided not to take up Hikaru's bait (the current environment demanded a bit more decorum than usual) and continued curiously, "What were you sighing about?"

"You're asking someone who just lost to an opponent he swore he'd defeat what he was sighing about? Are you an idiot?"

A vein throbbed alarmingly on Akira's forehead, but with Japan's dignity at stake, he could not afford to throttle the boy right then and there. "When you sighed," he began in a patronizing tone, "It didn't sound heavy or depressed, so I figure it's probably not about the match itself. Well?"

"Eh?" Hikaru was slightly taken aback by his rival's unexpected perceptiveness. "Well ... I was just wondering whether Kitajima-san would try to pelt me with scrunched-up paper balls during the closing ceremony."

Akira almost tripped in surprise at the reply, while Yashiro whipped around and snorted, "If we weren't on the same team, I'd have whacked you a good one with my paper fan!" He frowned, muttering frustratedly, "A second board getting depressed over losing to one of Korea's top players by half a moku? Damn it, I lost by three and a half moku to their third board!"

Kurata Atsushi 7-dan, the team manager, turned and smiled brightly, "Hong Su-Yeong is one of their top players too. You guys did a good job, for your international debut. But next year ..." Kurata's eyes bulged dangerously, "You _must_ win! I will not tolerate watching that An Tae-Seon gloating on stage one more time, do you hear!"


	3. Chapter 2: Drawing to a Close

Notes:

Thank you for the reviews. As for Sai, I feel that he was intended to disappear permanently. If they meet, it will only be in dreams.

Please let me know if it sounds awkward when I use 'Shindou' instead of 'Hikaru' during those paragraphs where I use a third person voice from Akira's perspective.

_"italics"_ is used to denote when dialogue is being spoken in a foreign language.

* * *

Chapter 2: Drawing to a Close

The discussion room was abuzz with fevered activity, as tournament staff hurriedly put the finishing touches on the stage decoration and straightened the last few chairs into place. A harried-looking lady ran back and forth, briefing various corporate figures about their roles in the ceremony and leading them to their reserved seats next to the stage. Spectators who remained from the discussion session milled around in groups and voices rose and fell – one moment there was only a low hum of muttering, and in the next, a rising crescendo of heated debate.

A hush fell across the room as the doors swung open. As the tournament participants filed in, the noise level rose again as the spectators excitedly gathered around the group to admire their Go idols and reporters from the three countries squirmed their way through the press of the crowd, clicking their cameras frenetically and yelling out questions to various participants.

A man near the front of the crowd made his way towards the Japanese team. "Kurata-san!" he cried out, waving a voice recorder in front of the manager's face, "Do you regret removing Touya Akira from the first board position?!"

"What strategy did you have in mind when you switched Touya Akira with Shindou Hikaru, Kurata-san?" added another reporter, her pen hovering anxiously over a messy-looking notepad.

The Koreans were also being besieged by their own reporters. _"Ko Yeong-Ha, you defeated Shindou Hikaru by only half a moku. Were you not playing seriously?"_ and _"An Tae-Seon-san, do you think the outcome of the match would have been different if the Japanese side had not switched their first and second board players?"_

"Touya-kun, how did you feel when Kurata-san made you the second board for this game?"

"Shindou-kun – "

Suddenly, a stuffy voice cut through the clamour. "Everyone, please take your seats so the closing ceremony can begin promptly. There will be time for interviews afterwards."

"Ah, thank you, Togari-san," Kurata huffed gratefully to the stern-looking man as he fended off several overzealous reporters and fans. "Come on, we're over there," he told his team as he pointed to a woman waving them to their seats. As they made their way through the dissipating crowd, Hikaru tugged at his collar uncomfortably and tried to keep himself wedged between Akira and Yashiro – out of sight of the crowd as much as possible. His eyes focused straight ahead, unwilling to make eye-contact with anyone in the crowd.

The ends of Akira's mouth tugged up slightly as he observed Hikaru's discomfort. "Relax, Shindou," he said in a soft undertone, "Doesn't look like anyone's out for your blood."

"They probably just haven't seen me yet," Hikaru retorted. "Stick your head out a bit, won't you? Your hair's too flat – they might spot my bleached fringe."

"_F-Flat??_" Akira sputtered indignantly. He swung around with a retort on the tip of his tongue, but unlike most days, the other boy's mild expression only managed to drain away his annoyance. The way he saw it, Shindou had never been the type to give up. He was loud and brash and rude; he was spirited and burned with a fire that helped him bounce back from every setback, more determined than ever. And yet, there was that disturbing phase of depression that hit Shindou ... yes, almost exactly a year ago to the day ... it had made Akira realise that there was something inside of the Shindou that could – and did – break. That, despite his bright confidence and unwavering determination to forge ahead through all obstacles, there were _some_ burdens he could not bear and some hurts that took an incredibly long time to heal. All the recent uproar about Shuusaku – it made him fear that it was one of those things as well. He did not know what brought the troubled Shindou back to his feet, and if it happened again, he would have no idea how to help. But now as he looked at Shindou, a flippant ghost of a grin on his face and a gaze steady if just a bit tired, he felt an unexpected sense of relief – and wearied, as if some long, unnoticed tension had suddenly melted away.

Hikaru had seen the parade of expressions on Akira's face and glared at him. "Who asked you to worry anyway?" Hikaru looked away for a moment, before continuing softly, "I meant what I said yesterday. I'd play Ko Yeong-Ha, no matter what anyone might say." Pause. "I'm fine."

Akira nodded wordlessly.

"Hikaru. Hikaru!" came a low call.

Hikaru swung around, searching for the source of that familiar voice and spotted the elderly man who had just risen up from nearby seat. "Grandfather? You came to watch??" he blurted in surprise.

The man nodded with a gentle smile. "That was an excellent game, Hikaru," he offered comfortingly. Chuckling softly, he continued, "Perhaps I might even consider adding one or two handicap stones in our next game."

Hikaru snorted, "You're going to need more than one or two to overcome that fifty moku loss, grandfather!"

"Don't you get cocky with me now!"

"Hehehe.... Anyway, I'll drop by your house tomorrow or something. We can talk then." Hikaru gave a small wave as he followed his team to the front seats.

_--------------------------------_

Yashiro glanced at his watch impatiently. This was so tedious. A bevy of suits had gone up to the stage and babbled on and on about things like 'international cooperation' and 'strengthening of friendships' and 'facing the future together'. He suppressed a yawn. There had been an excited stir when the head honcho of North Star Communications announced that the North Star Cup would be held again the following year, but it hadn't been enough to keep him interested in the proceedings.

"—in third place, Team Japan."

A sharp elbow poked him in the ribs. "Oy, Yashiro, get up. They're calling us to the stage."

"Huh? Oh, alright." He stood up and followed Hikaru towards the front of the room.

On the stage, Hikaru blinked in surprise at the unexpectedly warm applause. Near the back, he spotted Kawai-san waving excitedly and, when they made eye-contact, received a big thumbs-up. Hikaru allowed himself the luxury of a small grin. Slightly relieved, he let his eyes roam over the audience before they came to a stop near the front ... Kitajima-san. The man didn't look _too_ furious though. Actually, he didn't look angry at all. He sighed in relief. Next to him, Akira glanced sideways and smiled faintly.

After they duly received their certificates, the emcee turned to Kurata and said, "Team Manager Kurata-san, will you give us a few words?"

"Of course," Kurata said as he took the microphone and faced the crowd. "Our inexperience showed in the course of this tournament. But although we placed last, I think it is clear to everyone in the audience the great potential of our young Japanese pros. Touya Akira won both of his matches, and both Shindou Hikaru and Yashiro Kiyoharu played exceptional games. Since this is the inaugural tournament of the North Star Cup, perhaps it is best to give our guests a chance to win. But next year, we won't be quite as kind!" Then, as if five minutes of formal speech had been too much for him, he suddenly pointed at An Tae-Seon, the manager of Team Korea and gesticulated wildly. "Don't you think you've gotten away easy! You'll be going down next year! Down!!"

The emcee looked uncomfortable as she tried to pry the microphone from Kurata's hands as politely as possible. "Umm ... yes ... ah ... thank you Kurata-san. And thank you, Team Japan."

The Japanese team left the stage as the emcee announced, "With a loss to Korea and a victory against Japan ... in second place, Team China."

Yang Hai led his team up to the stage, where he too took his turn at the microphone. "I'd like to thank the organisers for coming up with the idea for this tournament. We were pleasantly surprised by the strength of the team fielded by Japan, and we anticipate seeing great progress from them. A second North Star Cup is great news, and we look forward to coming back next year and snatching the trophy from Korea."

Yang Hai, unlike Kurata, handed over the microphone without a fight, and lead his team back to their seats.

"Thank you, Yang Hai-san and Team China. And now, with a 3-0 victory against China and a 2-1 victory against Japan, please welcome the tournament winners, Team Korea."

"Thank you," said An Tae-Seon at the microphone, "For Japan's hospitality during our stay here. We are proud to have demonstrated Korea's strength at Go. We will hold on to our dominance, and I promise that we will win again next year." If Akira had not been forcibly holding Kurata by the jacket, he probably would have raced up to the stage and snatched the microphone from An Tae-Seon's hands.

Hikaru, meanwhile, kept his eyes fixed on the manager, studiously avoiding locking gazes with Ko Yeong-Ha. He did not want to see the self-satisfied smirk on the other boy's face. However, had his eyes slid over to the right just a bit, he would have been surprised to see a serious, pensive expression on Ko Yeong-Ha face.


	4. Chapter 3: Respect

Chapter 3: Respect

Hikaru threw himself into a chair with a deep groan. After the ceremony, Team Japan (well, mostly Touya Akira and Kurata-san) had been surrounded by fans eager for a word or two from the participants. Kawai-san had been remarkably restrained, giving him only a quick pat on the head. And while Kiwajima-san had mostly been absorbed in Touya, he had also grudgingly complimented Hikaru with a, "Not too bad, boy," and then a slightly surly round-about, "If only Akira-sensei had played first board, Japan would have defeated Korea." Reporters had impatiently crowded in after that and for the next half an hour or so, they were thoroughly questioned and photographed and prodded with assorted journalist paraphernalia.

"This is more tiring than playing Go!" whined Hikaru. He glanced at the ever imperturbable Akira, "You're really used to this sort of thing, aren't you?"

"You'll get used to it soon enough, too," he replied calmly as he loosened his necktie.

"Well," Kurata interjected. "It's been a long day. I'm going to go ahead and check out of the hotel. I'm suddenly craving ramen from the store near the Go Institute."

"Ramen!" Hikaru shot up from his seat, eyes sparkling with renewed vigour. "Kurata-san, ramen is a great idea!"

"Then you go and have ramen. Just don't expect me to treat you."

"Aww ... you said we played 'exceptional games'. Surely a bit of a reward is in order? All we got," Hikaru waved a piece of paper in front of Kurata's face, "were these dinky little certificates."

"Ask me about it again when you actually _win_." Kurata hesitated for a moment and suddenly started scanning the room. Spying a group of men lingering in one of the corners of the room, he hurried over and spoke with them briefly before returning with ... some autograph paper.

Hikaru sweat-dropped. _Okay, I have a baaad feeling about this ..._

"I meant what I said though ... that was some great Go you showed us today. Even though you didn't win, I think those games are worthy of my autograph." He signed them quickly and handed one to each of the boys.

"Umm ... Kurata-san?" Akira stared at the autograph shoved into his hands, perplexed.

Yashiro made a face. "And just _why_ – "

"Oh, it's just a little pact Shindou made with me. I felt it was only fair to give you two my autograph as well. Wouldn't want to play favourites, would I?"

"Pact?"

"Oh, Shindou was just so desperate to get my autograph – "

"I _wasn't_!! It was just – "

"You were begging for Kurata-san's autograph?" asked Akira quizzically, turning his deep turquoise eyes to Hikaru.

"No! No! I wasn't!" Hikaru yelled desperately. He could feel a flush rising from his neck to his face. Yashiro had an incredulous look on his face, his jaw hanging slack and his eyes unblinking. Hikaru waved his arms madly, "I just ... just –" _Damn it. I can't say the truth, can I? I'll get Kurata-san in a huff all over again. Argh! God, why me? Now Touya thinks I'm a Kurata fanboy – I'll never be able to live this down! _He'll_ never let me live this down!! He's still staring at me – if he dares to even snicker, I'll make him sorry he was ever born!_

"There, there... There's no need to be so embarrassed. You have a good eye for talent, that's for sure. My autograph will be worth a lot when I win a couple of titles. I've always known you were a smart kid, Shindou." Kurata nodded as he patted Hikaru on the back approvingly. "Anyways, I'm off. See you boys around. Oh, Yang Hai!" He waved quickly and rushed off towards the tall manager of the Chinese team.

"Shindou, do you want," Akira dead-panned, "my autograph as well?"

His only reply was a scrunched-up ball of autographed paper aimed straight for the middle of his forehead.

Yashiro snorted in amusement. "Well, we should head back to our rooms too. Wonder if they'd pay for room service if we order some food?" he mused as the trio started walking out of the ceremony room.

"Shindou!"

Hikaru turned around to see a small boy in a bowl cut leaning against a nearby wall. He straightened and trotted over to the trio as they drew closer.

"Su-Yeong!"

"I was waiting for you."

"Oh, that's right. We have a game tomorrow, right? What time do you want me to be there?"

"A game? With Hong Su-Yeong?" Yashiro asked curiously, looking back and forth between Hikaru and the boy who had recently defeated him.

"Yeah. We played once when I was an insei and he was a ... uh ... a Korean version of an insei."

"A kenkyuusei, Shindou" Akira added helpfully.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Well, I guess ... how about around ten in the morning, if you don't have a game to play?"

"I don't. Alright, I'll see you there then!" Hikaru waved and turned as if to walk off.

"Wait, Shindou!"

"Huh?"

"Umm, actually, there's something else too." Su-Yeong looked down at his shoes and adjusted his suit jacket nervously. "I ..." he clenched his fists and blurted in a half-shout, "I don't want you to misunderstand Yeong-Ha!"

Hikaru's face darkened. "Misunderstand him? What's there to misunderstand?" He could feel his ire rising again. "It was very clear to me what he said during the opening ceremony." His grip around the fan tightened, and he continued angrily, "I bet he's gloating now after his win. That can't be helped, but next time we meet, I'll make sure he's forced to eat those words!"

Akira sighed, wishing the Korean boy hadn't brought up this touchy subject. _And it seemed like Shindou had gotten over it too._

"No, no ... please listen! I did ask him about it after we met that day, and it appears that the problem was we had a really lousy translator and – "

"But I don't think there was a problem with the translator during the opening ceremony," Hikaru interrupted fiercely.

"I know, I know. I mean, I don't know why Yeong-Ha said that. Actually, okay, I do. I think ..." Su Yeong gulped and shrank back ever so slightly. _Why did Yeong-Ha have to be so childish?? And with Shindou, of all people! Now I have to be the one to clear things up. _ "Um ... he was just ... um ... baiting you ...?" His voice faded uncertainly as Hikaru drew himself up in a fury.

"_Baiting me?!_ Why, that bastard – "

"Shindou." Akira placed a placating hand on the boy's shoulder, "You should hear him out. Ko Yeong-Ha might just be a bit perverse," _like you_, he added to himself, "and took offense that you were angry at him because of some misunderstanding."

"Yes, yes!" Su-Yeong cried, relieved. "That's exactly right! Let me explain, okay?"

Three pairs of eyes stared at Hikaru. After a while, he gave in and nodded curtly. Su-Yeong continued hurriedly, "I asked Yeong-Ha what he said to the Japanese reporter. Yeong-Ha told me the reporter asked him if he knew of Shuusaku. He replied that he had studied all of the old masters, of course, but added that Japan was weak because Japan only knows about studying the surface of Shuusaku without understanding the essence of his Go."

"Wow ... that's really different from what he was saying at the ceremony," said Yashiro, his brows crinkled in thought.

"He noticed that Shindou was glaring at him when we met that day in the lobby. Even after he told me what he actually said, he would not let me tell you. I guess he thought it would be interesting to see you play with so much passion. I am sure that's why he said what he did during the opening ceremony."

"That ... _bastard_!" Hikaru repeated in impotent rage. His free hand clawed the air as if searching for a neck to wring.

"You already said that," Yashiro added in an undertone.

"Please. Just understand this, Shindou. Yeong-Ha is a good person. He has deep respect for Shuusaku and has studied Shuusakuu's games in great depth. He still studies Shuusaku. He even said that it would be a sad thing if great players like Shuusaku were to be forgotten because Japan has become weak. Shindou, you can be angry at him for toying around with you, but please don't be angry at him about putting down Shuusaku. It started with a big misunderstanding, and then Yeong-Ha was just being childish and wouldn't let it go." Su-Yeong bowed his head desperately, "Please, Shindou!"

Three anxious pairs of eyes turned toward Hikaru again. He did not know how to respond. His head bowed in deep thought. Inside him, emotions warred with each other. That Ko Yeong-Ha had used Shuusaku's name to taunt him – that was unforgivable. Yet, hearing that even that rascal respected Shuusaku's – Sai's – legacy lightened his mood inexplicably. Su-Yeong's passion made him want to relent, but his pride refused to yield.

"Why is it so important to you that Shindou understands this, Hong Su-Yeong?" Akira asked quietly.

"Because ... because I admire Yeong-Ha!" the boy replied passionately, "I admire him like Shindou admires Shuusaku. I, too, don't want to see Yeong-Ha disrespected and misunderstood! Especially by Shindou!"

Hikaru started, and jerked his head up to stare at Su-Yeong. Such a parallel had not occurred to him. _I should say something. But what? It's okay? But it's not. That I forgive him? But I haven't. That I understand? But I don't._ He tried to find his voice, but found it strangely difficult to speak.

"I-I cannot give you an answer today, Su-Yeong. I am not ready to forgive him. I will think about this and tell you tomorrow." With that, Hikaru spun around on his heels and walked resolutely away from the group.


	5. Chapter 4: Rematch: Hikaru vs Su Yeong

Chapter 4: Rematch: Hikaru vs Su-Yeong

Su-Yeong sat quietly next his uncle's counter, his eyes drifting over the familiar lines of the goban in front of him. No two goban were exactly the same, but every mark, the very grain of the wood seemed imprinted in his mind with an astonishing clarity. How peculiar, when he could recall having played on this goban only once in his life. And, despite the passage of time, he could close his eyes and recall the exact pattern of black and white stones, each group connected to another by the swirling patterns on the wood and those stark, straight black lines. He had lost then, a one and a half moku loss ... never had a one and a half moku loss felt so devastating, and it had wrung out of him – a him that thought he no longer cared about the Go he played – tears of sheer anguish.

The tears had been cathartic. The humiliation, the frustration, the gnawing self-pity ... they all flooded out with those hot tears, and had been washed away. He had burned with renewed determination and, riding high on those emotions, swept like an inexorable tide up to the top of class 1 and over the hurdle that was the pro exams. And now almost two years later, here he was again, before the very same goban and, soon, before the very same opponent. However, he had no intention of losing this time. He would not face his opponent with that old disdain and that roiling fury; he would not be lost; he would not be empty. His Go had improved, but most important of all, he loved his Go.

_Clink._

A glass of cold tea was set down on the table. He looked up to see the smiling face of his uncle. _"He should be here soon, right?"_

"_Yeah, he promised to come around ten."_

His uncle smiled fondly at him. _"You owe him a lot, you know."_

Su-Yeong turned several shades of crimson and choked out, half-embarrassed half-indignant, _"I-I ... I know!"_

The glass door swung open, and Su-Yeong shot up from his seat. "Shindou?!"

"Huh? Shindou?" said the man at the entrance, surprised. _"Ah, it's Ryuu-san's nephew, Su-Yeong, isn't it? I saw your matches at the North Star Cup. They were quite impressive."_

"_Umm, thank you."_ Su-Yeong gave his uncle an inquiring glance.

"_Su-Yeong, that's Yun-san. He teaches at one of the local schools and is a regular here."_

"_So what's this about Shindou-kun?"_ Yun asked curiously as he handed over the playing fee. _"I was surprised to see him play so well against Ko Yeong-Ha yesterday. His Go improves in leaps and bounds."_

"_Su-Yeong is waiting for a rematch, Yun-san,"_ the boy's uncle replied with a grin. _"I'm looking forward to it."_

"_A rematch? Today?"_ Yun pulled up a nearby chair and sat down. _"That should be a very interesting match. I would have been very sorry if I missed it."_

Su-Yeong reseated himself, and continued his contemplation of the goban. In his mind's eye, he could see the games that Shindou played against Ko Yeong-Ha and China's second board Wang Shi Zhen. Shindou had been so focused on defeating Ko Yeong-Ha then. _Was he paying attention to my games the way I concentrated on his? Probably not, huh?_ A creeping voice of doubt entered into his thoughts, but he snuffed it instantly. _That is why I must win today._

The door suddenly crashed open again, and a messy-looking boy stood panting loudly at the entrance, one hand still clutching the door handle. "Sorry I'm ... _huff _... late, Su-Yeong!" he forced out as he tried to catch his breath. "Got ... _huff_ ... a little lost. I couldn't quite ... _huff_ ... remember. Golden Week is a ... _huff_ ... bad time to travel."

"That's okay. Why don't you rest a bit before we start?" Su-Yeong rose and gestured to the chair in front of him. The man behind the counter reached over and handed him a cold drink. "Here, Shindou."

"Thanks, Su-Yeong, and thanks ... err ..."

"You can call me Ryuu."

"Thank you, Ryuu-san." Hikaru leaned back into his seat and drank greedily from the glass. "Oh!" he exclaimed and stood up, "The fee." Reaching into his jean pocket, he fumbled hastily for coins.

"That's okay, Shindou-kun. You are Su-Yeong's guest today. I'm looking forward to watching your game."

"Thank you, Ryuu-san," Hikaru replied gratefully as he sat back down. "I'm looking forward to it too." He finished the rest of his drink quickly, smacked his lips and let out a deep sigh of contentment. "That was so refreshing!"

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he straightened and turned a gleaming pair of eyes to Su-Yeong. "Are you ready?"

The look that Su-Yeong returned was just as intense and just as steady. "I am. Nigiri."

The stones clinked dully as the boys scooped them out and dropped them on the goban.

"Two ... four ... six ... seven," Hikaru counted under his breath. "You're black."

_Clink clink_, went the stones as they were dropped back into their pots.

"Please."

"Please."

The boys bowed their heads simultaneously. The game was on. The men in the salon left their games and crowded around the two boys, watching intently. They flew through the opening joseki, confident hands moving unerringly from go-ke to goban, plunking the stones down with a ringing _pachi_.

_Pachi._

_Pachi._

_Pachi._

A resolute Su-Yeong took the initiative and challenged Hikaru's hold on the upper left territory.

_Pachi._

And the battle was joined. A fierce skirmish broke out, and spread to the right of the board. Hikaru paused and took in the pattern of stones developing before his eyes. There was no weakness he could exploit – yet. He'd just have to create an opening himself, then.

_Pachi_.

Su-Yeong's eyes widened. _Why did he place that stone there?_ His eyes narrowed as he studied the board. He would not be fooled this time. He would not be cocky. He would play carefully and read deeper than Shindou. He knew enough not to take the other boy and his 'mistakes' lightly.

Behind him, the men frowned as they tried to figure out Hikaru's strategy. Not a few looked disappointed and taken aback, but a greater number had seen his previous match against Su-Yeong and were furiously wracking their brains, trying to see what only Hikaru could. They looked around at each other, and were only met with confused grimaces and helpless shrugs.

Su-Yeong took a deep breath and rested his chin in his hand. _I have time. I don't need to rush this. I can think through it!_ His gaze swept over the board again and again. _What am I missing? What is it he sees? What is he planning to do, ten, twenty, thirty hands down the game? Where ... where ..._

The minutes ticked away quickly as sweat beaded on his forehead.

_Where ... where.... I can feel it ... he is planning something!_

His eyes suddenly rested on a quiescent cluster of stones near the lower right corner of the board. _No, no ... can it be? Could Shindou be anticipating the battle there already? But that is so much further down the game ... No, don't underestimate him. I see ... I see ... that would allow him to regain control of the upper territory as well! I'll just have to move ... there!_

Su-Yeong's hand arced from the go-ke to the board and smashed a stone down with a loud _pachi!_ A barely concealed glimmer of triumph shone in his eyes and he raised his head to glare at Hikaru, who had gripped his go-ke spastically in shock. Unconsciously, a grin strained yet feral emerged as he returned the challenge in Su-Yeong's stare.

_He ... figured that out. I should have guessed – he'd be too cautious to fall for it again this time. But you haven't seen the whole picture yet, have you? No, you haven't seen all the possibilities yet! No good attack is one-pronged. I can play out my moves in the guise of trying to respond to your attack. You won't even know what hit you! Would you have anticipated this, Su-Yeong?_ Without hesitation, Hikaru plunked down a stone – _hane_!

_Pachi._

_Pachi._

The battle raged on, the tide ebbing and flowing as the two boys moved their fight to the center. The game would move into yose soon. And then ...

_Pachi._

Su-Yeong stared. And stared.

_How? Since when ...? How is this possible! That group is now alive, and now he's threatening my group in the upper left! He's also in the position to win the center ..._

Both hands gripped the edge of his seat as he leaned forward to study the board. The air in the room became intolerably stuffy and the collar of his T-shirt seemed to chafe uncomfortably against his neck. One finger tugged absently at his collar. He gulped. It was getting difficult to breathe. _Concentrate, concentrate! I can do this! There is a way ... there has to be a way._ His mind raced through myriad possibilities, discarding them one after one – until one single path loomed large in his mind in its unyielding inevitability.

"I have lost," he finally gasped out.

A loud, heavy silence descended upon the room. It seemed like an eternity to Su-Yeong, before a flurry of noise finally broke about among the men standing around them._ "Did you see that?" "Incredible!" "I was almost sure Su-Yeong was in the lead!" "What a magnificent game!"_

"Thank you for the game." Su-Yeong bowed at his loss.

"Thank you for the game."

The two boys straightened and looked at each other in the eye. Su-Yeong's expression was proud and unrelenting in its intensity. This was not the confused, volatile boy of their first meeting. "Shindou Hikaru. I have lost to you again, but I am not defeated. The path of Go is a long one. I will become stronger, and we will play again."

Hikaru nodded. "I will get stronger too. I'll make sure our next match will also be worth your effort."

"Shindou-kun," came a quiet voice behind Hikaru.

"Ah ... umm ..." Hikaru frowned, scouring through the dregs of his memory for the man's name. "Yun-sensei, right?"

The man nodded. "That was a great game. You are growing very quickly," he complimented warmly. "I also saw your first board match against Ko Yeong-Ha. That was also very impressive." He hesitated, and then added, "Not that I doubt your ability, but you could tell me why the team line-up changed for that game?"

Su-Yeong looked frantically at Hikaru, making cryptic motions with his hands. Hikaru surmised that the boy did not want news of Ko Yeong-Ha's misbehaviour to spread, and gave a small nod, as if in understanding.

Relieved, Su-Yeong took up the explanation. "Umm, well ... there was some miscommunication with a reporter before the Cup, and the Japanese team thought Yeong-Ha had insulted Shuusaku." The boy glanced at Hikaru nervously, and prayed fervently that he wouldn't fly into a rage. "Shindou took offense and wanted to play first board against Yeong-Ha. Anyway, it's all cleared up now ... I think ..." He turned to look pleadingly at Hikaru, who had remained tight-lipped up to that point.

"Tell Ko Yeong-Ha that what was said cannot be changed. He belittled Shuusaku in public as a challenge; even if he did not mean it, those words remain in the memories of those who were there and those same people remember that the challenge still stands, that I was unable give an answer. The next time we meet, I will defeat him."

"But, Shindou – "

"I am not angry any more, Su-Yeong. Well, not _that_ angry. But as long as I have my pride and my Go, I will strive to defeat him."

"O-of course."


	6. Interlude: Border Between Dreams and Rea...

Interlude: Border Between Dreams and Reality

In the cusp between night and day, the breath between dreaming and waking, the sun dawned. A pale light suffused into the room through the translucent curtains, but as they rustled in the rising breeze, a golden ray peeked into the room and crept playfully across the sleeping boy's face.

A waft of air carried the scent of a pristine morning and the slightly damp chill of spring. Hikaru shivered and snuggled deeper into his blankets. But the dance of light and shadow tickled his eyes – he finally opened them ... and sighed. Sai was not in his dreams last night. Among the endless parade of nights in which they could have met, he had hoped they would meet during that one. Of course, there were dreams that were forgotten immediately upon waking, but those were fleeting phantasms, merely hazy patches of impressions quilted into the fabric of a dream. Frail and insubstantial, they would vanish without a trace into the murky depths of the mind. However, when they had been together, Sai was as much a phantom as he was real, and in dreams, he would be real as much as he was a fragment of bygone days.

Last night, he had clung steadfast to a bittersweet memory and left the window slightly ajar before turning into bed. Left with only fairy tales and magic to believe in, he had cast his hopes into the night sky and slept, waiting for the wind to carry Sai into his dreams. But, tired and exhausted from a long day, only a deep, deep slumber took him and latched tight the window to his mind.

He briefly contemplated giving Sai another chance by going back to sleep. However, the sun was already climbing above the rooftops, and there was much to do on this particular day. He dragged himself out from under the covers and drew aside the curtains. Just outside, colourful carp kites fluttered joyously in the brightening sky. It was like a day in the youth of the world, carefree and fresh and boundless.

And in this world brimming with countless paths and inexhaustible potential, he suddenly felt very much alone.

"Even though I am playing now ... even though I love every moment of my Go ... I meant what I said back then.... God, if I give you my Go, would you give Sai back to me?" The only sound he heard in response was the delicate tinkling of distant wind chimes, but if he had really concentrated and really listened hard, perhaps he would have heard the warming breeze whisper in his ear, _Let's go, Hikaru. A new day awaits!_

* * *

Thank you for all the encouraging reviews. They really help keep me going.

As for tournaments, they're just around the bend. The Wakajishisen, or the Young Lion's Tournament, is currently planned for chapters 7-10 – one for each round of the tournament. It may be a bit of a wait, because these next two chapters are a bit difficult to write.


	7. Chapter 5: The Fifth of May

Chapter 5: The Fifth of May

Hikaru slipped the train ticket into his jacket and leaned back against a pillar. The morning was still young, and the crowd here in Tokyo Station was not yet heavy. On the far end, a couple of young children were squealing excitedly as they chased each other around in an energetic game of tag. Hikaru chuckled lightly to himself; so much of the day left, and the parents were already looking frazzled. There was a family with children in their mid to late teens as well, but their grumpy expressions clearly indicated that they were less than ecstatic about their current situation. _Probably visiting family outside Tokyo_, he conjectured.

He was so absorbed in his examination of the people in front of him that he did not hear a crisp tap-tapping of hard-soled shoes coming up behind him.

"Shindou," hailed a familiar voice.

Hikaru turned his head in surprise. "T-Touya?"

"Didn't expect to see you taking this early a train," the boy continued without any preamble as he came to a halt next to Hikaru. Despite his words, he acted like running into Hikaru here at this hour seemed like a most natural occurrence. He stood there comfortably, facing away from Hikaru and toward the train tracks, checking the time on his wristwatch. "Five more minutes," he muttered to himself softly.

Hikaru only gaped at him. "But where are _you_ headed so early?" The other boy was dressed smartly in a matching blue suit and tie – but then again, he was _always_ dressed smartly. _He wouldn't be visiting family by himself, would he? Some sort of engagement, then?_

"What do you mean, where am I headed?" Akira tugged his sleeve cuff over his wristwatch and looked up in mild astonishment. "I'm heading the same way you are. Did you think I wouldn't get an invitation?"

"_Invitation?_ What on earth?" Hikaru jerked back in utter shock. "I didn't invite you to come to Innoshima with me!"

Akira stared at him blankly. "Innoshima? Are you out of your mind?" His voice rose an octave higher. "The children's Go festival is being held in Hiroshima City ... why would I want your invitation to go to _Innoshima_?"

"The children's Go festival??" _Oh shit. That's right ... _He suddenly recalled the neatly engraved letter that had arrived in a plain white envelope a week before the North Star Cup. It had invited him to attend the Hiroshima City Children's Go Festival on the fifth of May and play shidou-go with the youngsters there. And then he had –

Akira's eyes narrowed. "Have you been paying attention at all?" Pause. "You received the invitation as well, didn't you?" To his knowledge, Shindou had never missed or been tardy to any matches or functions outside those few months of forfeited games the previous year. Taking a moment to track the dates down inside his head, he noted absently that it had been one year since then – one year down to almost the exact day.

"Eh?" Hikaru had frozen on the spot, his mind flailing about wildly as it tried to grasp for a shred of coherent thought. _What was I thinking? Of course he's headed for the festival! Now he's going to start asking more questions again.... Damn, I should have left even earlier ..._

"Well?" Akira asked again, trying to mask the faint note of urgency in his voice with the bossy tone he usually reserved for their squabbles. A sense of foreboding settled heavily in the pit of his stomach. _He's not skipping this event, is he? This has nothing to do with the reason he almost quit Go last year, does it?_

"Umm ... ahh, yeah, I got it.... well, I guess I forgot it was today ... ?" Hikaru scratched the back of his head nervously. _He's not going to let me get away with this._

"You _forgot??_" The tense knot in his stomach unwound rapidly. "Are you taking your responsibilities as a pro seriously? How can you _forget_ about an engagement?" Relieved, Akira fell back into one of his most common (as of late) non-Go pastimes – yelling at Hikaru. "Really! It's lucky you ran into me."

"_Lucky?_ Running into you has never been lucky for me!" Hikaru shouted back.

Akira glared daggers at him, before subsiding a bit and retorting, "Hmph, you wouldn't be where you are today if you didn't run into me."

"Neither would you," Hikaru shot back.

Akira turned away, his eyes distant. His expression softened, and he smiled. "I suppose that is true." _I wonder where I would be now, if not for you. Would I have had the intense drive to make it to the Honinbou League so early in my pro career, were you not snapping at my heels?_ He looked back at Hikaru, whose wide jade-green eyes had always seemed to offer an enticing mix of resolute challenge, grudging admiration and what he hoped was friendship. _Would I be standing here, arguing about something totally inconsequential like an ordinary fifteen year old?_ "Anyway," Akira finally continued, "We'll get there in good time. You'll be coming, right? I know you have plans for Innoshima, but you can't just not show up, can you?"

Hikaru paused briefly, debating whether or not to speak. Well, he would have to say it eventually, but if he said it now, Touya would be nagging and bugging him for the duration of the train ride.

"Shindou?"

"Umm ... actually, yes, I can." Hikaru inhaled deeply before plowing onwards in a rush. "I forgot that the festival was today because I'd already contacted the festival organizers and let them know I won't be able to make it."

"_What?_ But _why_?" Akira asked, startled.

"Why? Because I have a more pressing appointment at Innoshima, obviously."

"What pressing appointment – " The rest of Akira's question was cut off by the fortunate arrival of the Hiroshima-bound bullet train as it swooshed down the length of the platform. When it came to a complete stop, sliding doors hissed open and the boys boarded the train together in silence.

They found comfortable seats in a nearly empty car. Hikaru threw himself down on his seat, kicked off his shoes, and propped his feet up against the facing seat with a loud sigh. Akira sat down beside him with a noticeably greater dignity and proceeded to gaze out of the window, as if in deep thought. For a long while, they did not speak, and the only sounds in the car were the rustling of newspapers and the surly whines of the teenagers Hikaru had seen on the platform.

"So, how did the match with Hong Su-Yeong go?" Akira tried renewing the conversation on a different tack.

"I won," Hikaru replied simply.

Akira nodded, as if he had merely been waiting for confirmation of a predetermined result. "And ..." he glanced sideways at Hikaru, "did you come up with an answer for him?"

"I told Su-Yeong that I would defeat Ko Yeong-Ha the next time we played."

Akira observed Hikaru's reflection in the window carefully. Although he lounged in his seat, his lanky legs stretched out indolently in front of him, there was a quiet sort of resolve in his eyes. Reassured by the other boy's matter-of-fact tone and unruffled composure, he felt it would be safe to probe a little further. "And for what reason must you defeat Ko Yeong-Ha?"

Hikaru shrugged. "I just need to show him that a weakling who can be defeated by the likes of me couldn't hold a candle to Shuusaku."

"Oh? And what does that make you?" Akira's tone was light, even playful, but the eyes reflected in the window pane were profoundly serious.

"Huh, I couldn't either. But ..." Hikaru's careless tone grew firmer, "I'll burn brighter than Shuusaku one day. And that's a promise." _A promise to you, Sai. With your Go, I will walk the path to the Hand of God. And if I do not make it to the end, your Go will live into the next generation of Go players, and the next, passed onwards into the future until it is finally in our grasp. _

"A promise, huh?" Akira wasn't exactly sure why Shindou felt the need to make such a promise, and the way it was spoken seemed to suggest that the promise was not being made to him. He felt a little lost. _Like I'm missing half of the conversation. _He pursed his lips speculatively. "I'd like to think I've figured out some part of the connection between Shindou and Sai," he finally said out loud after some deliberation, "but the connection between Shindou and Shuusaku is still very confusing. Aside from Sai's use of classical joseki and Shuusaku-style play ..." his voice trailed off into the stillness that had settled around them. Beside him, Hikaru had stiffened in his seat, but offered no words.

_Shuusaku ... and Innoshima?_ Akira shook his head. No, he was merely making logic-defying leaps of intuition, just trying to force together pieces of a puzzle he wanted to fit. Then again, nothing about Shindou was logical. His half-blind leap of faith in confiding with Shindou the fantastical and absurd conclusion he had arrived at was not mocked. That day, the boy had listened to him solemnly, and answered him in the same solemn manner.

"The day of our first match, when you said you might tell me all about this one day ... I don't suppose that was a promise?"

"I can't believe you're still obsessing over that, Touya!" Hikaru growled in mock annoyance. "I said I might ... _might_. How does that make it a promise?" He threw his hands behind his head, fingers laced together, and sank even further into his seat. _That most certainly was not a promise!_

"Those two games in the Go salon and the tournament match at Kaio ... do you realise how different a path I am walking now because of that? Do you realise how greatly my life changed," Akira swung around to face him, his voice fierce yet oddly muted, "because you walked into it? Were those just careless words you threw out to appease me? Am I never to know exactly what has brought me here to this day?"

_If Shindou and Sai are truly connected the way I think they are, then perhaps ... perhaps I can understand why he is so reluctant to say anything._ He leaned back into his own seat with a resigned sigh. "Can you at least ... tell me when?"

"I don't know, Touya. I just don't know. Just ... someday."

"Is that ..." Akira paused, uncertain if he wanted to finish the thought, afraid of hearing the answer; "a promise?" The only response he got was a low grunt that could have been an agreement, or could have been a dismissal. The two boys fell into silence then, each mired in a maze of their own thoughts.

Minutes ticked by – or perhaps it was only a few seconds. Hikaru shifted in his seat and broke the tense atmosphere with a broad grin. "Shall we play, Touya?"

"Play? Now?"

"I have a magnetic Go board." Hikaru rummaged swiftly through his backpack and pulled out a compact Go board, folded in half, with a triumphant flourish.

"Ah, that's a handy thing to have." Akira's face lighted up with anticipation. "It never occurred to me to get one ... I usually just study some kifu during long trips." _I guess I should just let things lie for now._

Hikaru traced his fingers fondly along the board's black lines. _Sai, this is the first time I've played on this board with someone other than you._ He smiled inwardly. _I'm sure you'd be delighted if you knew it was Touya. _Carefully, he flipped it over, unfolded the board and sorted through the magnetic playing pieces. Akira leaned over wordlessly and, taking a handful of pieces, helped him separate the black 'stones' from the white. The monotonous clicking of magnet against magnet was hypnotic, and Hikaru was pleasantly surprised at how such a simple exercise could be so relaxing. _He's not a replacement for you, but ... I guess you didn't leave me all alone after all. Thank you, Sai, for giving me a rival – and a friend._

"Nigiri."

The interminable miles became a mere blur as the two immersed themselves in the universe on the goban.

_Tap. Tap. Tap ... CLICK!_

"Oh damn it! Sorry about that ... these darned things keep sticking to each other. Erm, okay, that white stone was there ... and this black one was here ... and ... and, okay, let's go on."

More tapping, then an aggravated silence.

"ARGH! Not again! Stop repelling, you silly magnets!"

"Shindou! You have to place them down carefully – don't let them touch each other!" Akira made an exaggerated show of demonstrating the procedure. "See? It's really simple!"

"That's more easily said than done. We're playing in a _moving_ train, you know! Let's see you try it!"

"Uh, I just did it? And if you haven't noticed, you're the only one having problems with these magnetic stones." Hikaru looked up from the board to glare at Akira, and noticed the irritated glower of the teenaged kids a few seats up. _Oops._ Their bickering had practically become second-nature to them, and whenever they interacted outside official games, they slipped into the habit as easily as easing into a pair of well-worn shoes. They had never thought twice about causing a ruckus back at Touya's Go salon, but doing so on the Tokaido Shinkansen was probably not very appropriate.

"Hmph!" Hikaru lowered his head – and his voice, and quickly placed a white magnet on a relatively uncontested area of the board. "Man, yose is going to be a nightmare," he groaned. And so the game continued, and another game as well, punctuated only by an occasional mild curse or two from Hikaru. The crackling of candy bars being unwrapped and the slurping of drinks rippled through the car in a wave as the food and drink trolley passed through, but the boys were so caught up in their game that they did not notice how their own stomachs rumbled in response.

A hiss of static abruptly cut through the low hum of the car. "Shin-Onomichi station coming up. Shin-Onomichi station."

Hikaru raised his head and looked at Akira, who was bent over the board contemplating his next move. He examined the game again. It had progressed into a heated battle across the board, although the lower left territory was now the key to victory. The advantage was currently his, by a very small margin – about one and a half moku – but he anticipated losing that to black's assault in the upper left if he wished to concentrate on this critical position. Various scenarios flashed rapidly through his mind – and he shook his head quickly. _What am I doing? It's not the time to get lost in the game again._

"Touya, I'm getting off at this station," he announced.

Akira's head snapped up as he was surprised out of his thoughts. "Eh? Oh ..." He was silent for a moment, and then there was a soft _click_ of magnets as the stone in his right hand reluctantly joined the others he held clenched in his left. His eyes swept slowly over the unfinished game with a longing gaze. "Umm ..."

"We'll continue this game at the salon," Hikaru interrupted with a cheerful, lopsided grin. "I plan to win, so you'd better be there this week, Touya!"

Akira nodded. After taking one last look at the game, they hurriedly cleared the board. Hikaru lined the magnets inside with a swift, experienced hand and stuffed the folded board back into his bag. Swinging the backpack over his shoulder, he gave Akira a casual wave. "Have fun at the festival. I'll see you at the salon!" With that, he walked down the row of seats and exited the train as it came to a halt at Onomichi.

* * *

Again, thank you for the reviews and encouragement. I hope this chapter wasn't a disappointment.

About Sai ... believe me, I'd really like to see him back too. However, I also understand why he had to be written out of the original story, and since this one is an attempt to continue where the manga left off in as canon a fashion as possible, he will not be making a reappearance here, sadly. If I come up with a fresh idea on how to do it, I may try to do so in a sequel.

I also apologise for the length of each chapter. If you noticed, none of my other stories are finished. The moment I stop writing and turn to something else will probably be the death knell for this story as well. I'd hate to see that, so I am trying to keep to the meat and finish the story before I start watching any new anime or read any new books. I realise that the beginning and ending of each chapter seems a bit choppy (I've tried to make this chapter flow a bit better), but I'll have to ask you to bear with it for now. Perhaps, at some much later date, I'll come back and fill in the gaps.


	8. Chapter 6: Looking Back, Moving Forward

Chapter 6: Looking Back, Moving Forward

Onomichi. Hikaru had been here exactly one year ago. How odd it seemed, that the place would appear so new and alien to him. But again, he had been so anxious then, so full of anticipation ... rushing forward to a future that did not exist and blinded to the world that did. His heart throbbed as the pain of those repeated disappointments resurfaced in a wave of nostalgia. It was only a dull ache now, like that of an old scar, gradually healing ... and fading away. Hikaru was afraid of that. He did not want the hurt to disappear; he did not want the tears to dry so completely – he did not want to forget. And so he had turned down a job and traveled to Onomichi, then soon onwards to Innoshima – so he would not forget.

Hikaru scanned the area outside Onomichi Station. He and Kawai-san had taken a bus to Innoshima from this station last year. Spying a familiar bus stop to the left, he strolled in that direction, taking lazy ambling steps that allowed him to observe the scene around him: families, friends, couples and a few people here and there walking alone, like himself. He had been with Kawai-san when he was here the first time, but peculiarly enough, he had felt more alone last year than on this day.

It was not a long wait before a bus arrived, its destination displayed boldly above the front window: Innoshima. He clambered on and found himself a window seat. The bus shuddered slightly as the driver stepped on the gas, and soon the city was in motion before him. Trees and telephone poles whizzed by, and they soon broke through the clutter of buildings and onto a bridge over the wide expanse of the sea. The gentle swells on the surface of the water glittered in the late morning sun and seagulls in the purest of whites hovered effortlessly in the air. The sky was a vivid shade of blue, one of those rare skies one thought only existed in picture-perfect photographs, almost clear except for a single fluff of cloud scudding gaily towards the horizon. He vaguely remembered that the weather had been good the previous year too, and if pressed further, would admit to possibly recalling a few specks of white in the sky. But today was truly the first time he was appreciating the island's beauty.

Once the bus reached Innoshima, Hikaru disembarked at the first stop. He watched the bus recede from his vision, and then looked around. The waters separating Innoshima from the mainland were still in sight; the steady breeze that blew in from over the sea was cool and carried the salty tang of the ocean air. He inhaled deeply, his body feeling alive down to his fingertips and toes. The wind ran its playful fingers through his hair, whipping it into a semblance of a messy bird's nest. He stood there, unmoving, wishing that Sai was beside him, dancing his enthusiasm as he had always done.

The last time he had come to Innoshima, he had spent two days scurrying here and there, visiting all known Shuusaku memorials in existence, searching desperately for any sign of Sai. This time, his destination was one place only: Shuusaku's tomb at Ishikiri Temple. He strolled through the town, in what he hoped was the general direction of the temple. A florist's shop came into view, the scent of roses and jasmine and other flowers he couldn't name mingling together in an aromatic haze around the store. Hikaru simply walked past it, never having paid much attention to things of that sort, but it eventually occurred to him that a visit to a grave wouldn't be quite complete without an offering of flowers. Doubling back, he peered among the vibrant array of blooms that adorned the store and selected a small bouquet of freshly cut chrysanthemums.

His wanderings eventually brought him to a bold red torii at the entrance to Ishikiri Temple. He stepped in to find himself in an oasis of calm, as if the fence that surrounded the temple was a charm that warded away the hectic bustle of daily life. He drifted through the meticulously groomed garden, absorbed in the sound of his shoes raking against the gravelly path and the soundlessness of ripples wrinkling the surface of the koi pond.

"Oh!" came a sudden exclamation. "Haven't you been here before?" The person addressing him was a middle-aged woman with cropped hair, straightening up from the bonsai tree she was tending. She gave him a motherly smile as she brushed some dirt off the knees of her pants.

"Eh? Umm, yes, I came here once a year ago." Hikaru cocked his head and looked at her in amazement. "You remember me?"

"Oh," the curator replied with a hearty laugh, "my memory isn't all that spectacular. But the Shuusaku museum doesn't get that many visitors and most of them are older people anyway. There aren't a lot of youngsters coming around here – especially kids with bleached hair like yourself!" She stowed her tools away on a low shelf and motioned for him to follow.

"It's heart-warming to see someone so young take such an interest in these things," she gushed effusively as she made her way to the door of the museum.

"Um ... that's alright!" Hikaru called out hurriedly, "I'm just going to visit Shuusaku's grave today."

"His grave?" The lady stopped and eyed him curiously. Noticing the flowers he held in his hand, her face softened as she sighed, "Chrysanthemums ... I don't think I even remember the last time anyone brought flowers to that grave ..."

Feeling a little awkward, Hikaru scratched the back of his head somewhat self-consciously. "Ah ... well, it's nothing really. I just happened to see these flowers and thought I'd bring them along." He slowly edged towards the steps leading to the temple's hilly cemetery. "Uh, I'll just be off now ... I think I remember where his grave was."

"Oh, alright." She blinked, as if thrown off by the sudden end to the conversation. "Well, have a good day. Come by the museum later if you have time!"

Hikaru waved and climbed up the stairs that led through the thick forest of grave markers. He had not really paid attention to the directions the last time he came; rather, he was blindly following the museum curator's instructions while checking every nook and cranny for Sai. Fortunately, his feet seemed to remember the way, and he was content to follow where they led. There was a slight bend in the path, and suddenly, it was upon him ... so small, so insignificant, lost among the tight press of generations of the departed ... the final resting place of the famous Go player Honinbo Shuusaku.

He squatted down in front of the aging gravestone. "Hello, Torajirou. I don't think I introduced myself last time," he began in a conversational tone. "I'm Shindou Hikaru, a friend of Sai. I came by last year, but I'm afraid I didn't pay my proper respects to you at the time. I was distracted and ... a bit upset. I'm sure you understand. Sai always said you were a wise and forgiving man." Tenderly, he laid the flowers down on the altar and adjusted the blooms so that they wouldn't be flattened. "These are for you. I don't suppose you get a lot of flowers these days. Hope you like the colour."

Hikaru studied the name engraved in stone before him for several heartbeats; the lines seemed to etch themselves deep into his mind. Those simple characters elicited a welter of emotions more complex than he had expected, and his breaths came more quickly as he struggled to sort out the jangling in his chest. "I'm sorry I couldn't bring Sai with me today," he continued at last, "He would have loved to come by and visit. Oh! ... but now that he's at rest, perhaps you've already met again. Perhaps you are even playing Go together at the moment!" He smiled forlornly as he recognized that old twinge of jealousy. For once, it was a strangely comforting sensation, as if he was back in his bedroom in Tokyo, obstinately thumbing through a text on joseki after having a fight with Sai over this long dead man.

"Sai loved to talk about you, you know that? He missed you dreadfully. Your early death and your untimely parting – it was so painful for the Sai who was left behind with the stain of your blood on the goban. I think ... I kinda resented you for that. I'm so childish, aren't I? Not like you ... I was too selfish to realise that his Go was a great gift to the world. I've always wondered if that was the reason why he left."

Hikaru paused and closed his eyes. In the unearthly stillness of the cemetery, his emotions seemed to have settled like drifting snow on a tranquil winter morning, crystalline in their clarity. "I ... I feel like ... that's not the case, but I still can't help feeling guilty, you know? Like it's my fault that the Go world has lost Sai's genius forever. You wouldn't know that feeling, of course. You gave him everything." His mouth twisted bitterly. "I guess I'm really just angry at myself. Not at you. No, not at you ..."

His gaze was drawn into a minute study of a single chrysanthemum petal, and for some minutes he could not find the words he wanted to say. "In the end," he managed finally, "we both lost him. Although, you did get to say goodbye, didn't you? I guess it wouldn't be too immature of me if I were to envy only that. It isn't wrong to be envious of something like that, is it? Even Sai couldn't scold me for something like that ..."

His fingers absently brushed away the dust on the altar. The stone was cold despite the warmth of the noon sun. "In the end, it boils down to the fact that, just as you couldn't come back for Sai, I know ... he will not be coming back to me."

The words that he had spoken, words he had never been able to say out loud before – they were like a crashing wave that shattered the wall around his heart. Words poured out then; like a dammed up river suddenly finding freedom, they streamed out in rushed, turbulent swirls, powerful and direct at times, lost and incoherent at others. To a handful of flowers and a speckled grey stone worn by the years, he spoke about his meeting with Sai, the times they spent together, the countless games they shared on the goban in his bedroom, as well as Sai's fond recollections of Torajirou. All the priceless memories he and Sai had shared – that he now held alone. _If I am the only one who can remember these things ... do they really exist beyond me?_

But, for now, at least Torajirou shared in the memories – even if such memories were even more insubstantial than a ghost.

"Don't let Sai bully you around any more, you hear? And ... tell him to come visit me in my dreams now and then, please?"

Hikaru straightened and stretched. The sun had just passed its apex, and its brilliance seemed to wash away his worries along with the shadows that it banished. Somehow, making peace with Torajirou – even though, he privately acknowledged, it was the one-sided sort of conflict you could only have with a dead man – had lightened the stifling burden on his heart. Even if Torajirou was long gone, it felt reassuring that there was another person who could relate to his sorrow. He took one last lingering look at the tomb and whispered, "Goodbye for now, Torajirou. I'll come by again next year."

He slipped unnoticed past the Shuusaku museum and left the grounds of Ishikiri Temple. He found a ramen shop not too far away, and found that the ocean air stimulated his appetite marvelously. After polishing off three bowls, he took the bus back to the mainland and boarded the Tokyo-bound Shinkansen. Out came the magnetic go board, and soon his fingers found themselves unconsciously replaying one of his games with Sai. Hour after hour after hour, these old games flowed through his fingers without faltering. In these games, his memories took shape in the physical world – and were real.

Evening was falling by the time he reached home. "I'm back," he called out perfunctorily as he stowed away his worn sneakers.

"Welcome home," came a cheerful voice from the kitchen. His mother walked out, drying her hands on her aprons. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I'm starving," he clutched his stomach in mock agony. "Make me a bowl of ramen? I'm just going to put my stuff away." He ran up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

"Okay, okay." His mother gave an indulgent smile and made her way back to the kitchen. "Oh, Hikaru. There's a letter for you from the Institute." She pointed to a letter on top of a heap of mail as she craned her head to check that the boy saw what she was pointing at.

"Letter?" From the bedroom door, he flung his backpack onto the bed, and was back down the stairs even before it had stopped bouncing. He found the letter in question, and quickly extracted its contents. "Let's see ..." he mumbled out loud. "To the participants of the Young Lions' Tournament – _Young Lions' Tournament?!_" Hikaru gasped when he read those words. _That's right ... the tournament is held in mid-May. I'd completely forgotten since I skipped it last year._

He scanned through the text and, not finding what he wanted, flipped impatiently to the attached page. _I'll plow through every single opponent until I get to Touya! _His grip on the letter tightened as his eyes searched for his and Touya's names in the tournament line-up._ But ... _eh_?! We'll play in the second round?? Well, that's fine with me – no need for either of us to go through three days of tournament games just to play each other!_

Hikaru felt his heart beating triple time. It was true that he played Touya on a regular basis and that the games they played in the Go salon were all serious games, but there was something special in the sheer intensity of an official match with Touya – the way the air around them absolutely prickled with tension. _Our second official game ... just you wait, Touya! It won't be long before I'll be walking right beside you!_

* * *

Argh ... that felt like pulling teeth. I have images in my mind, but without a regular work out, it's getting harder and harder for me to find the words I want. Anyway, apologies for the rather slow and uneventful chapter. Take heart – the Young Lions' Tournament is up next! (Oh, I've realized that it's actually five rounds, not four ... slight change in plans.)

I'm glad to hear that the interaction between Hikaru and Akira is believable. Their friendship and rivalry is one of my favourite aspects of the series, and I'd hate to have butchered it. As for Hikaru and Akari, oddly enough, I do have a side story in mind (to take place after the tournament). However, I've seen another story with a very similar premise, so I'm going to have to think twice about it (though I've avoided reading it so far so that I can be comfortable knowing that anything I write is my own).

As for the questions about Touya ... well, you'll just have to wait and see.

Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews. I really appreciate the time you all put into writing them.


	9. Chapter 7: Stirrings of Truth

Notes: This chapter is based on some scenes and dialogues in the Hikaru no Go special chapter 2. Some anime-only elements are included as canon.

* * *

Chapter 7: Wakajishisen Round 1: Stirrings of Truth 

"What's with this line-up??" the reporter Kosemaru grumbled incredulously to himself as he stared at the tournament pairings listed on the sheet he held in his hands. "Touya-kun and Shindou-kun are matched up in the second round?" It was already the opening day of the 11th Young Lions' Tournament – but if he had gotten wind of this beforehand, he would probably have charged up to the head office of the Japanese Go Institute and demanded they rearrange the pairings.

"Oh?"

"Ah, Shinoda-sensei." Kosemaru greeted the teacher of the insei who had come up to stand beside him. "Look at this," he jabbed at the paper with an offended air, "this should be the final round of this tournament!"

The bespectacled man smiled wisely and replied, "Not necessarily. There are strong young pros who did not compete in the North Star Cup. Take Isumi-kun, for example," he gestured to a tall, dark-haired young man in the small cluster of newer pros in a corner of the room. "You may not have seen him play much yet, since he just received his pro certificate this year. However, he performed marvelously against Kuwabara Honinbou in their new shodan series game."

"Hmmm ..." The reporter didn't seem quite convinced. He was about to launch into a new argument when, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a mop of half-bleached hair approaching from one side. He looked up and exclaimed delightedly, "Ah, Shindou-kun!"

"Good morning!" the boy called out cheerfully. A chorus of replies rang out as friends since Hikaru's insei days greeted his arrival. "Hey Komiya," he continued, noticing the older insei, "good luck today. You've been studying with us for a while – don't let us down!"

The older boy nodded. "Good job in the North Star Cup, by the way. Pity about that half moku loss."

"Yeah, it was rather frustrating," Hikaru admitted. Although he had come to terms with his defeat, the past week or so had been peppered with nightmares featuring a gigantic Ko Yeong-Ha rampaging over Torajirou's old goban while he cowered helplessly in a corner. He hastily shoved the mental image of the cackling Korean out of his mind. "So you were at the tournament, Komiya?"

"No, I wasn't free that day, but kifus from the tournament have been spreading like wildfire. Honda," he pointed to the tall freckled boy next to him, "was there though."

"Amazing game, Shindou," Honda congratulated warmly. "Sorry we didn't stick around for the awards presentation ceremony." (_Not that we won anything_, Hikaru thought wryly to himself.) "Waya, Isumi and Ochi were there as well, but we wanted to go discuss the games right away." He peered at the young pro in front of him, dressed casually as always and still sporting a blond fringe, albeit a fading one. It had been easy to dismiss the boy who seemed like he would be more at home in an arcade center than the solemn mental battle before the goban, but the games he had recently played against formidable international Go stars ensured that no one would make that mistake again. "I'm looking forward to your game against Touya. Good luck."

"Thanks," he replied solemnly.

"Speaking of opponents ..." Komiya pointed to two bickering children behind Hikaru; "Shindou, see those two insei over there? The one on the left is your opponent today. She's been an insei for a year, and is currently ranked 14th." Hikaru glanced at the girl in question; she appeared to be flustered and distraught about something and it seemed like the boy next to her was teasing her mercilessly.

"The other one is Touya's opponent. Rank 16. They're both quite excellent though, and they're only in 5th grade."

Hikaru smiled faintly at their antics and shook his head. "Ranking is irrelevant. I was also ranked 16th during the time of the Young Lions' Tournament, but I was able to pass the pro exam."

"You ..." Komiya grimaced weakly at the boy and sighed. _You're an exception_, he wanted to say.

"Shindou-kun," Kosemura interjected, "After the insei match, you'll be playing Touya-kun right away in the second round, won't you? I don't know what they're thinking!" he gesticulated irritably as he wrestled the conversation back to his favourite topic for the day. Recognising that the reporter intended to monopolise their friend, Komiya and Honda gave Hikaru a quick wave and moved over to join the older insei and newer pros lounging off to the side. "Really now," Kosemura persisted, not noticing that the other two had left, "don't you think the two of you should be playing in the final round?"

"I don't really care," Hikaru replied indifferently, "as long as I get to play Touya. It doesn't matter how the matches could have been set up – he wouldn't have fallen to anyone before our match-up anyway." The fact that _he_ wasn't going down before his second professional game against Touya was, of course, a given. "Getting to play him right away is just a bonus."

"But a game of that level – "

The short man cut off in mid-sentence as another round of 'good mornings' rippled through the room. Well, where Touya Akira's presence was concerned, it was more of a roaring wave than a ripple. Numerous pairs of eyes followed his progress through the room; some were challenging and probing, a good many were somewhat fearful, and quite a few were unabashedly admiring. Unlike at the two previous Young Lions' Tournaments, he appeared relaxed and comfortable in the crowd. Bowing slightly to the older pros who greeted him, he eased his way towards the center of the room where Hikaru stood chatting to Kosemura.

"Good morning," he nodded politely towards the reporter.

"Good morning!"

"Touya." Hikaru shifted slightly to acknowledge the new arrival.

"Shindou-kun here was saying that he didn't care that you'd be matched up so early in the tournament," Kosemura began, renewing his diatribe.

"I don't either, Kosemura-san. Only one of us will win anyway." Akira turned his attention back to rival and they locked gazes for a moment. Only a few days ago, they had met up again at the Go salon and wrapped up the game they left unfinished on the Tokaido Shinkansen – as well as played a couple more games for good measure. 'A preview of the Young Lions' Tournament,' Shindou had called them. Well, they had certainly whetted his appetite for today's game. Not that they were necessary ... watching the final stages of Shindou's game against Yashiro and Ko Yeong-Ha unfold had reminded him that they were long overdue for a second formal match.

"That boy's your opponent," Hikaru pointed suddenly to a pair of young kids behind them.

Akira's eyes automatically followed the line of Hikaru's finger, and vaguely noted the antsy young insei in question. _Oh, my _first-round_ opponent ...._ _But back to more pressing matters:_ "Shindou, do you want to go to Serikawa-san's study session? They're planning to study kifus from the North Star Cup."

"Sure!" Although he had examined the kifus of the games his team mates played against Korea, he had not had the chance to discuss them with anyone. And there were a few things he planned on pointing out to Touya .... "When's the study session?"

"Every Monday. I'll check the time and place with him tonight and let you know."

The amplified sound of someone tapping on a microphone cut through the din. That someone cleared his voice before declaring, "We would like to now begin the 11th Young Lions' Tournament." A hush fell across the room as participants and observers turned their attention to the stage. "Please find your seats as we announce them." The man's voice was almost drowned in the shuffling of feet and scraping of chairs as he rattled off the seating arrangements for the first round. When he finished directing all the participants to their positions, he proceeded to confirm the basic rules of this first round which pitted pros against insei: "There will be no handicap. Insei take the black stones;" there was a brief clatter as each person selected the proper go-ke and plunked it down in front of them. "Please begin."

Murmurs of "please" swept through the room, followed by a stillness in which reverberated only the _pachi_ of go stones and the _click_ of timers.

At one end of the room, a young girl regarded her pro opponent with a tinge of anxiety born of the growing realisation that she was about to be horribly, utterly outclassed. It was one thing to joke about Shindou's ability when staring at a piece of paper riddled with black and white spots; it was entirely another to find herself seated opposite of him and discover that there was absolutely nothing she could do to avoid imminent slaughter.

_Pachi._

_What?? _The girl drew her breath sharply, eyes running frantically over the board. _Oh no ..._ _they can't get out! _With a sinking heart, she confirmed the worst of her fears ... in a single devastating move, he had cut off her group in the lower left territory and was poised to crush the suddenly vulnerable group in the mid left. And once that fell, her entire formation would be on the verge of collapse. She chewed her lip and tried to rally her tattered spirits – but failed miserably as they insisted on flopping right back into the pit of her stomach. _At least it'll be mercifully quick .... _She sighed ruefully;_ probably much quicker than I'd expect_. Each of his hands seemed to come out of nowhere, with the pronouncement of doom clanging like the lid of a sarcophagus.

Behind her, a young boy with tangled, brown hair mirrored her sigh. _So this is the great Touya Akira._ He frowned in concentration as he examined the patterns forming in front of him. His opponent's moves cut him off effortlessly at every turn and he was fast running out of options – and places to run. He smashed his stone down onto the goban with a loud _pachi_, proud that he had managed to keep the trembling in his hand down to the barest of quivers, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he was merely jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

He couldn't help but steal a glance at his opponent. The older boy studied the goban with a composed confidence and, without a moment's hesitation, smoothly set down his stone on the goban and tapped the timer button.

_Touya's too strong._ He felt like a blade of grass about to be overwhelmed by an oncoming tsunami. It was coming straight for him but, rooted to the spot, he could only stare it down as it threatened to crash over him.

Five minutes passed. And another five.

"I have lost." The boy's head drooped in defeat.

A delicate pair of hands deftly sorted out the white stones and poured them into the go-ke. "Thank you for the game."

Akira stood up from his seat and looked around for Hikaru. Apparently, the other boy had wrapped up his game already as he was nowhere to be seen. His own game had taken somewhat longer than one he'd usually play with someone of this skill level, not because the insei was a particularly wily opponent but because he had not wanted to crush the young child too cruelly. His play had been inspired for a child of that age, but still raw and inexperienced.

He debated whether or not to find Hikaru, but considering that they would play each other in the next round, he figured perhaps it was best that they both kept their distance for the time being. He wanted to play his rival seriously, and bickering over something nonsensical would not be very conducive to that mental state.

He strode towards the results board to inform the staff of his victory by resignation. Without bothering to check Hikaru's tournament status, he continued to the nearest exit and found a vending machine. As a rule, he didn't eat during or between games, but at the moment, a warm drink would help settle his stomach. The corridor echoed with a jingle of coins as he counted out the change, and he bent over to retrieve the beverage as it plunked into the dispensing slot. Taking a sip of the tea, he leaned back and twirled the can absently as he stared at the opposite wall.

Back in the hall, Waya was wrapping up his game. His opponent was a former class 2 insei who managed to rapidly climb up to rank 13 of the first class in the past year. _But he's not quite ready to take me on yet_, he noted to himself with some satisfaction as the boy finally yielded.

"Thank you for the game."

Placing his go-ke firmly on top of the goban, Waya peered around the hall, trying to pick out his friends. Isumi and Ochi had finished their games already, and had gone over to observe the showdown between Honda and Nase. Another quick pass over the faces in the room revealed that Shindou had most certainly left the game area already. No surprise there. His next opponent was Touya, and he had probably gone off by himself somewhere to mentally prepare for what was sure to be a heated battle.

He had not had the chance to talk to Shindou about the North Star Cup, and therefore had no idea how the two came to switch positions in the match against Korea. Keeping in mind Touya's sort of immense pride, he had noted with considerable astonishment that there was no sign of any bad blood between them when they interacted this morning. Waya had already come to the grudging conclusion that Touya Akira saw Shindou as a rival, but what he witnessed this morning seemed almost like ... a familiar sort of friendship. When did they become so comfortable in each other's presence?

Lost in thought as he wended his way to the nearest vending machine, he was practically upon Akira before he noticed the boy's presence. He was sitting alone on a nearby bench, sipping his drink languidly as if lost in thought. Waya's first impulse was to turn heel and backtrack, but Akira had heard his footsteps and turned around to look at him. _There's no retreating now_, he realised. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he tried to appear nonchalant as he approached the vending machine. _Damn, I don't need all this tension before the next round!_

Clear turquoise eyes followed his stiff shuffle curiously.

Waya fidgeted with his collar. He had always felt unnerved by this serious-looking boy, and his aloofness and the ease with which he moved among the upper echelons of the professional Go world did nothing to help his cause. For the longest time, he bore a burning resentment against this Touya Akira, against the detached golden boy of Go whom everyone who mattered spoke of in tones of awe and approbation, sight unseen and in spite of the absence of any amateur record. It seemed as if an entire generation of young Go players had already been weighed against this shadowy figure and callously judged unworthy, their very real accomplishments merely a fleeting pattern of stones against the untarnishable, untouchable vision of what Touya Akira _could_ have done if only he had, of course, done it.

His dislike was no doubt fueled further by Morishita-sensei's personal quest to defeat Touya-sensei. Yet while his fingers still itched inexplicably whenever the boy's porcelain features came into view, the fervent antagonism had died down to a light simmer since Touya's entrance into professional Go. He had conceded that the Go world was right to have been mesmerized by this genius – although such acceptance didn't make the truth any easier for his pride to swallow.

He had also deeply resented the boy's cavalier attitude towards the pro exam that was always excruciatingly nerve-wracking to him and other insei. In retrospect, however, he could now understand why someone would ditch an exam game if personally challenged to a Net match by the legendary Sai – the Sai who defeated even Touya Kouyo, undisputedly the greatest known Go player of this generation. _Still ... how could he have known that Sai was worth skipping day one of the pro exams from just a handful of moves?_

"You're one of Shindou's closest friends, aren't you?" Waya jumped out of his reverie as an unassuming voice, slightly hesitant, shattered the taut silence. "It's a little late to be asking about this, but ... umm ... do you know why he forfeited all those games beginning around this time last year?"

"Eh? Uh ..." Waya was at a loss for words; he couldn't even begin to imagine what Touya would want to talk to him about, but _that_ topic wouldn't have occurred to him in a million years. He eyed the boy, stunned for a few seconds. Behind him, the loud _plunk_ as his can of Pokari Sweat was dispensed went unheeded. "Umm ... no, I don't." _Why should he care about something like that? Sure, Touya had seemed really worried back then, but wasn't he just concerned about their rivalry?_ "I met him only once during that time, at a park near his home." He felt the stirrings of an old anger as he retreated into his memory of that day. "Shindou refused to say anything, refused to share anything even though it was clear that there was something troubling him deeply."

Waya turned his back to Akira and retrieved his drink from the vending machine. His voice had a chilly undertone as he stated curtly, "Anyway, it's over and done with. Shindou came back and he's been getting stronger steadily. Isn't that all that's important to you?"

Akira ignored the question as he considered the boy's words. It was similar to his experience when he dropped by Haze Junior High School to check up on Shindou. _So am I no closer to the truth? But ..._ "So," he pressed on, "do you know why he came back?"

"No idea either." Waya yanked on the tab of the can and took a long drink. Granted, he was managing to carry on a civil conversation with Touya, but it was too much to expect him to sit down all chummy-like next to the boy. After a moment's consideration, he compromised by moving over to lean against the far wall. One finger tapping absentmindedly on the side of the can, he continued, "Isumi-san must have worked some sort of magic, I guess."

"Isumi-san?" An image of the tall older boy flashed through Akira's mind. Shindou had mentioned him on occasion, but he could only recall having seen the boy once, at the shodan certificate presentation ceremony a little over a month ago.

"Yeah, he went to visit Shindou at his home and somehow got him to play a game. All Isumi-san said later was that it seemed he was able to get over whatever was bothering him."

"So, Isumi-san was the one who pulled Shindou out of his depression?" Akira rested his chin on one hand thoughtfully. _Was it presumptuous to think that I know Shindou best?_ He felt a small twinge of doubt and self-pity; why would Shindou trust someone like himself with whatever was tormenting him anyway?

Waya shrugged. He hadn't bothered to press Isumi-san for the details, and his friend had not offered any. "After Shindou came back, he felt different somehow. He had always been driven, always excited about Go, always looking ahead. Always ... chasing after Touya Akira, it seemed." He rambled, half-forgetting about his listener and voicing thoughts as they surfaced. "After he came back though ... he had mellowed a great deal and developed a quieter, calmer sort of intensity. If I had to compare it to something, I'd say he changed from a sprinter to a marathon runner. Like, he's chasing after a more distant goal.... And I still can't figure out that fan."

"Oh, that fan he carries around for his games? What about it?" Akira didn't see how a fan would have anything to do with the topic at hand, but the other boy seemed to have thawed and become talkative – he certainly didn't want to interrupt the flow. "I just assumed it was a personal idiosyncrasy he picked up from Morishita-sensei."

"I don't know. He didn't buy it until he restarted attending his pro matches. It doesn't go with his image, although it seems like a part of him now. I mean, you'd expect it on a person like Morishita-sensei, but not a guy like Shindou. It would be as disorienting as suddenly meeting Morishita-sensei on Net Go."

Akira smiled faintly, thinking of his father. "Well, it may take rather extraordinary circumstances, but things like that do happen. No one would have thought Father would take to Net Go either, yet he barred visitors from his hospital room for a whole day just to play Sai."

"Sai, huh?" Waya's ears perked up at the sound of his hero's name. "He's so incredible! That game against Touya-sensei was just ... just unbelievable. I wish we could find out who he is. The world of Go would be completely transformed!" he exclaimed, one fist pumping excitedly while the other clenched his drink in a tight grasp. Suddenly remembering who he was talking to, he calmed down a bit and looked away embarrassedly. "Heck," he added in an offhand manner after a brief pause, "there was even a time I thought Shindou was Sai." He chortled and shook his head, as if to dismiss such a ridiculous notion.

One fine eyebrow rose up in mild surprise. _There's someone else who came to that same conclusion?_ "What made you think Shindou was Sai?" Akira ventured finally.

"Well, it seemed to me that Sai might be a kid. I kept seeing him online during the day, almost all day and every day ever since the summer break started. After Sai defeated me, he said to me, "I'm strong, aren't I?' In any case, the topic came up when we were playing our first insei match, and oddly enough Shindou knew my handle name and that I had told Sai I was an insei."

'_I'm strong, aren't I'? That does sound something like the old Shindou would say. _"But now you don't think he's Sai?" Akira pressed again, his eyes burning into the other boy.

Waya was taken aback by how intent the boy was. Laughing nervously, he replied, "Because, well, isn't it obvious? How could Shindou be the Sai that defeated the Meijin? His new shodan series game was terrible! As an insei, he was stuck in class 2 for a while, and when I played him in class 1, he was good but not _that_ brilliant – thought I admit, he's pretty incredible now." _Man, does this conversation even merit logical arguments like these? Shindou as Sai? Seriously now ...._ "At the time, I did think it was possible that he might be Sai's disciple or something, but Shindou said he just happened to see the screen in passing, and had no idea who Sai was."

"Disciple, huh?" Akira's eyes widened. That was an intriguing concept. He was sure Sai and Shindou were one and the same, and yet their skills were quite distinct. Was it too absurd to go a step further and imagine Shindou learning from his other self? That could explain his meteoric rise, despite the lack of a mentor, and the glimmers of Sai he'd sense in Shindou's game.

"Uh," Waya coughed uncomfortably. _This guy's way too serious for his own good_. "Try not to think too much about Shindou. It'll make your head hurt. He's just a bit strange."

A small smile managed to wriggle free of Akira's controlled expression. _He's more than just a bit strange._

"So I'm a bit strange, am I?" came an amused voice from the doorway.

Two heads swung around to see Hikaru, standing with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised inquiringly. A light flickered in his eyes mischievously as he appraised the two somewhat contrite expressions in front of him. "Well, just _how_ am I – "

A familiar voice cut in from the game room: "Shindou, any luck?"

"Oh ... yep! Be right there!" Turning back to the two, he grinned happily as he beckoned for them to follow; "It's lunch time! Let's go!"

* * *

Thanks for all the encouragement! I hope this latest chapter has been enjoyable. I'm going to have to apologise ahead of time, as I probably won't be able to update with the next chapter for at least two weeks. 

To address a few questions that came up in the reviews:

1) No, this will not be shounen-ai. Take what you will from the story, but the intention is to develop Hikaru's and Akira's friendship.

2) At the moment, the only place that will accommodate another 'Sai chapter' is, sadly enough, the epilogue. But stories can take on a life of their own, so we'll just have to see.

3) I will probably go back and rewrite the first few chapters when I'm done with the story. They were each written in a single day, so they aren't as developed as they could be.

BTW, just in case you're curious, here's the line-up for the round of 16 (round 2). It's not in the text itself because 1) I don't really know the names of most insei, 2) I don't even know the first names of many of these people nor their ranking, 3) two of the 18-and-under prelim candidates for the Hokuto Cup were not named, and 4) some of these pros are probably over 20 already (I just went with these because they seemed like they were lower dan players).

First, I ranked 16 pros in this order:

1. Honda Toshinori  
2. Kadowaki  
3. Isumi Shinichirou  
4. Yamada  
5. Inagaki  
6. Waya Yoshitaka  
7. Ochi Kousuke  
8. Shindou Hikaru  
9. Mashiba  
10. Tajima  
11. Uchiyama Norio  
12. Nakayama  
13. Tsujioka Tadao  
14. Murakami Shinji  
15. Ochiai  
16. Touya Akira

I separated the top eight from the lower eight, fold them in half again, and voila, the line-up, assuming that no insei makes it past the first round. Some pros will probably fall, but that's not an important part of the plot.

4. Yamada vs 12. Nakayama  
5. Inagaka vs 13. Tsujioka  
3. Isumi vs 11. Uchiyama  
6. Waya vs 14. Murakami  
2. Kadowaki vs 10. Tajima  
7. Ochi vs 15. Ochiai  
1. Honda vs 9. Mashiba  
8. Shindou vs 16. Touya

For the purposes of the story though, I just might switch Isumi and Kadowaki around.


	10. Chapter 8: Of Friendship and Rivalry

Chapter 8: Young Lions' Tournament Half Time: Of Friendship and Rivalry

"Oy, Touya, why are you still sitting there! I'm starving!"

Akira blinked a couple of times. He stared blankly at Hikaru and then glanced over at the group of Hikaru's friends who were already headed for the exit. "Uh … me?" he gaped rather dumbly.

"What are you talking about?" Hikaru replied, sounding slightly exasperated at the other boy's denseness. "You're the only Touya around here. And even if you weren't, I'm not about to drag your father to the local McDonald's."

"I … er …." Akira hesitated as he half-rose to his feet. He looked down at the can he held in one hand, feeling the remaining tea slosh around inside as he swirled it. Hopefully Shindou would take the hint.

Perhaps he did.

"Then you're just going to sit alone in a dark corridor sipping tea like an old man? Don't tell me," Hikaru wagged an eyebrow suggestively, "you're actually _nervous_ about our game?"

"You wish!" Akira snorted, puffing up with wounded dignity, and threw his nearly-empty can into the garbage bin along the opposite wall with a sharp toss. The can flew across the corridor and landed dead center with a smart _clack_. A couple of proud strides took him past where Hikaru was standing; "I need to get another drink anyway."

Hikaru stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and grinned. He caught up to Akira as the boy reached the lobby door and felt a rush of warm air as they stepped into the sun.

"Skipping lunch isn't healthy, you know," Hikaru said with a patronizingly superior air.

"It's not like eating ramen all the time is any healthier," came the quick retort.

"Hey, it's not ramen today!" Hikaru responded plaintively. "Hamburgers and fries. You wanted healthy, right?"

A group of newer pros and older insei were milling around near the entrance, chatting spiritedly about the morning's games. The conversation cut off abruptly as the pair approached, and not just a few failed to hide their startled expressions as they eyed the unexpected addition to their group. "Everyone ready?" Hikaru asked cheerfully – and obliviously. "Let's head out!"

Chatter resumed hastily as the group moved down the street. Akira trailed behind dubiously, trying not to seem like a fish out of water. A couple of the pros had drawn Shindou into an animated conversation, and the cold, challenging glares that Ochi-kun occasionally shot his way were making him uncomfortable. Although no one else was openly hostile, it seemed like they were trying to overcome their surprise at his inclusion by carrying on as usual, and in effect, ignoring his presence. He felt unwelcome and wished desperately for the familiar solitude of a book and a quiet corner. It was too late to back out, however, so he squared his shoulders resolutely and followed them through a pair of sliding doors.

Inside, the restaurant was buzzing with activity. Trays clattered on tabletops and the noise level ran high as girls giggled at a far table, little boys begged their mothers for extra large Coke and a pack of teen boys bragged about their exploits in loud, boastful voices. Heart sinking, Akira realised it was a vain hope to have banked on a peaceful lunchtime date with his volume of Honinbou Shuwa's kifus. Most people might feel the need to tread warily around an upcoming opponent, but Shindou, ever blunt and blind to such sensitive matters, obviously had no compunctions about whisking his rival off to lunch with his circle of friends.

He smiled faintly, recalling their first professional game. It had been a long time coming, and although he had never faced an opponent anxious or nervous, he had felt a tension winding up inside like a tightly-coiled spring. Shindou's and Sai's games that he had played and replayed, mentally or on a goban, seemed to blend into a blur in his mind; so many memories and thoughts and strategies were swirling through his head that he could barely manage a terse conversation with Ochi-kun and only a brief yet intense glance at his long-awaited opponent. He had been prepared to meet a rival then, in a stiffly proper confrontation that would do justice to their tumultuous encounters over the years.

But then … Shindou had just breezed in and started chatting with him, as if all the coldness and hurt of the past never existed between them. While he himself had long put his confusion behind him and was prepared to acknowledge Shindou as a rival, the casual warmth had been entirely unanticipated. Yet, it felt so natural that they should be reliving their memories and discussing recent games like old acquaintances meeting over tea. He hadn't had much to say himself, and merely soaked in that curiously pleasant moment of mutual acknowledgement.

Not to mention that strange conversation about Sai…. In his daze, he had blurted out the half-formed (and half-baked, he had surmised) conjectures that were spinning out of control from the moment he saw Shindou's trademark kosumi. He had ended up running into the elevator after Shindou, had gotten himself drawn into a childish argument, and before he knew it, they were sitting down together at the table as Shindou gobbled down his bowl of katsudon. He found himself eagerly inviting the boy to his father's Go salon for games, and he was surprised to feel a surge of relief and gratification when the invitation was just as eagerly accepted.

Akira glanced at the bleached-blond boy as he engaged Waya-kun in an argument over the merits of ramen; the rest of the people at the table laughed and ribbed Shindou fondly as he whined about their lack of appreciation for the king of all foods. He felt the ghost of a grin tugging at the edges of his mouth. The boy truly had a way of drawing people to him.

Being rivals … now that was easy, he mused. Growing up with a father who dominated the world of Go and routinely faced down challengers seeking to overthrow him, he knew what was expected of him. He knew how to treat competitors gracefully and how to approach both victory and defeat with dignity. He yearned for an opponent with whom it would be worthy to walk down this endless path. But being friends with someone his own age … that was something the wealth of experience he drew from his father, Ogata-san, and Ashiwara-san had not prepared him for. The usual rules of confrontation did not apply to this spontaneously buoyant boy, whose loud hair and even louder mouth managed to drive him up the wall, over it – and out, beyond his barriers, into a world he had never known before.

"The new pros are so strong. None of the insei was able to pass the first round this year!" moaned the lone girl in the group as she brushed aside her tray and slumped on to the table.

The tall boy known as Honda Toshiyuki gave her an encouraging smile. "That was a very good game though, Nase. Keep playing like that, and I'm sure you'll make pro by the end of this year."

"I'm sure she would have made it this year too," chimed in a bright voice, "if it weren't for Isumi-san and Kadowaki-san." A small boy with ruffled hair beamed at the other two tall, older members of the group. "They completely blew away the competition!"

Akira looked at the short boy; he seemed somewhat familiar. Noticing his examination, the boy turned to smile easily at him; "I'm Fuku. We've played in the pro exam and the preliminaries." Unlike most of the other people at the table, the boy was one of the few who hadn't spent the lunchtime eying him speculatively every now and then.

Kadowaki smiled ruefully, brushing back his red hair with one hand. "The world of the pros isn't so easy though. I've done fine in my Oteai matches so far, but … ahhh … I'm a new pro too – and I'm not _that_ old! They really should have let me play in this year's Young Lions' Tournament at least." His eyes strayed over to Akira and Hikaru. "I would have liked to pit my Go against you guys."

Akira acknowledged his comment with a slight, dignified nod. "Sometimes, the first encounter is all the better for the wait," he stated with an oblique smile. "And there are a great many games ahead for us all." There were murmurs of agreement, punctuated by Nase's bemoaning her unending state of insei-hood.

Waya was chomping away on his hamburger, only barely listening to the conversation, but his curiosity had been piqued earlier from his conversation with Touya. His eyes darted sideways occasionally as he mulled over the boy's earlier questions. Why was Touya still obsessed with something that happened over a year ago? Not that the boy didn't seem like the obsessive type, because he did, from his perfectly straight bangs down to his immaculately neat suits. But why stoop down to Shindou, of all people, when he was already competing among the top dan players? Was there something about the mystery that clung to Shindou like a thick veil?

And, unexpectedly enough, Touya seemed to get along fine with the brash and blustery Shindou, and to be brutally honest with himself, his own bruised pride probably coloured his opinion of the boy. Sitting together for a lunch like this and watching him sit formally and oh-so-out of place … he suddenly realised that he had never seen Touya in the company of those his age. He was probably too focused on Go and the giants of the Go world to have ever felt lonely, Waya decided, but he suddenly caught a glimpse of something almost … _pitiful_ … in the distance the boy kept from the happily chattering youths at the same table.

Still, wanting to push Touya's buttons a bit, Waya leaned forward and asked, "So why did Kurata-san switch your positions for the Korea match?"

An abrupt hush blanketed the table.

That was probably _the_ most burning question to emerge from the North Star Cup. Of course, Team Japan had been bombarded with similar questions once reporters had access to them, but the answers were all carefully neutral and formally proper. From Kurata-san's "I had great confidence in Shindou-kun's ability to challenge Ko Yeong-Ha" to Touya's terse, "I had no objection to the switch," nothing answered the hidden question: how did the incomparable Go prodigy Touya Akira-3 dan take being bumped into the role of the second fiddle?

The boys at the table tensed; greased paper crackled as Honda toyed nervously with the unfinished burger in his hands. It was one thing to read a meticulously-composed response in the Weekly Go; they weren't sure they wanted to see humiliation surface behind those proud, deceptively calm eyes. Nase rolled her eyes, as if to say "Boys are so tactless!"

To Waya's surprise, it was Shindou who seemed uncomfortable with the question. "I was just being selfish," he replied evasively, waving a hand as if to dismiss the question. "Really, why does everyone have to ask about it? It's not a big deal. Is it that wrong for me to be first board?" He huffed irritably and sank back into his seat, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

All eyes fell on Touya, who was still sipping his tea placidly. _Is he just going to take that?_ Waya wondered anxiously as a cold dread crept over him. He could almost see the next Weekly Go headline: _Touya Akira 3-Dan Goes Berserk at McDonald's._ Not that this seemingly composed boy would ever do such a thing, but he knew very well how Shindou's flippant manner was capable of raising ire in the most saintly of men. Feeling the half-horrified anticipation, the boy set his cup of tea down and returned their stares with a mild and steady gaze. "Ko Yeong-Ha insulted Shuusaku's Go, and Shindou wanted to make him eat his words." He paused briefly; "That's it."

"That's _it_?" several voices exclaimed in disbelief.

"That's it," Akira replied, raising his cup up for another sip. In the face of their incredulous expressions, he felt obliged to elaborate further. He wasn't _completely_ oblivious to what the issue was, after all, although it aggravated him on occasion that people persisted on underestimating Shindou, that they would presume to defend his pride for him yet blithely ignore his own judgement. _He's my chosen rival, after all._

"I would have liked the chance to play Ko Yeong-Ha," he admitted with shrug, "but I'll have other opportunities. It seemed important to Shindou, after all." He briefly caught the eye of Shindou, who was leaning back in his seat with a slightly furrowed brow.

"In the end," he continued with a stern, admonishing look at the faces around him, "Go is about the game, not what board you play. The Korean players would not have been there if they had not all been worthy competitors." The group cast furtive glances around at each other abashedly. Waya could feel the tip of his ears heating up; this was not a rebuke he would have ever expected of someone like the ambitious Touya Akira. It was rather shameful that it took someone like _him_ to remind the group about the spirit of the game. An old sense of resentment stirred somewhere inside, but he was too busy regretting his question and it found no hold.

The rest of the lunch hour passed in a more sedate manner, as the boys were cowed (_and awed_, Waya noted with an irrational twinge of annoyance) by Touya's response. Shindou eventually regained his good humour, reminiscing with Fuku about their speed Go matches, poking fun at Nase's miniscule portion of salad, before finally ….

"Oy, Touya … why does your pinky stick out like that when you drink?"

Akira almost choked on his tea as he glared at the other boy, "My pinky does _not_ stick out!" Eyes turned on the duo in mild shock, aghast at Shindou's deliberate baiting of _the _Touya Akira and taken aback by said boy's unusual loss of composure.

"It did a little flip when you drank from the cup," Hikaru replied with a mischievous gleam in his eye as he mimicked the motion with an exaggerated _pointiness._

Akira made to rise, as if to protest, when he was interrupted by a polite cough. "It's almost time for the second round," said a boy with dark hair.

"Ah, you're right, Isumi-san! We'll be late if we don't hurry!"

Akira bit down the retort hanging on the tip of his tongue, and resolved that the upcoming match would be a thrashing Shindou wouldn't soon forget.

* * *

I'm so sorry about the very long hiatus! As the two-week mark drew near, I was urged to try out the World of Warcraft beta. The rest, as they say, is history. 

About a third of this chapter had already been written, and I came back to it about 6 months later to try to wrap it up. However, because I've found the Hikaru-Akira game (in the following chapter, really!) so very difficult to write, I haven't really been intent on polishing off this one. I'm also sorry that, after such a long wait, nothing much really happens at all.

Part of the problem in writing all this is … I already know how I want this to end, and I can see the final chapter play out in my head. I'll just have to beg for your patience as I meander my way there.

Thank you for all the reviews and constructive criticism. It helps to know which aspects of the story stand out, for better or worse. Writing the Go matches, unfortunately, are the trickiest part, since I don't really have a firm grasp of the game itself.

As for the two insei … are they both boys? Ooops … the translation of the special chapter that I read had Oka as a female, using a female pronoun. Sorry for the mistake and thanks for the confirmation; I'll go back and make the correction.

To Dephanie: Thanks for your reminder about Kadowaki. He is now relegated to the position of a sad and envious observer of the proceedings. But more importantly, I've also read your "Returning to Meet Again" fic and love it – please update soon!


	11. Chapter 9: Enter the Tiger

Chapter 9: Young Lions' Tournament Round 2: Enter the Tiger

This year's Young Lions' Tournament seemed unusually feverish as Ogata Seiji strode through the double doors of the competition hall. The organisers of the tournament were particularly strict about smoking in this hall, due to the young age of the players, so he paused briefly to take one long last drag from his cigarette. A smoke ring rose in the air as he extinguished the cigarette, and he began to scan the room for familiar faces. He noted the larger number of pros than generally turned up for a minor event like this. Sighting a familiar mop of reddish hair in a far corner, he had only taken a single step before –

"Ho ho ho ho!"

Ogata grimaced. Taking a deep breath, he quickly composed himself before turning to look upon the sly, wrinkled face of Kuwabara Honinbou. "I didn't expect to see you here today, Kuwabara-sensei," he responded in wary greeting.

"Ho ho ho!" The glint in the old man's eyes reminded him of a predator leering at its favourite prey. It was not a pleasant thought, and Ogata's mind ran through the various excuses he could use to distance himself. "The boys at the Weekly Go have been keeping me busy lately – always asking me to write this and that. They're probably hinting that I should retire already!" Kuwabara chuckled hoarsely. "I came to hand in my latest manuscript, but ..." A toothy grin flashed at him; "I think I also need to remind them that it's still too early to count me out."

_So he's also here to watch Shindou play against Akira. I should have expected this old fox._

"So, Ogata-kun …." A feral smile played on Kuwabara's lips. "Did you want to bet on the winner again this time?" He pulled out a wallet and thumbed it meaningfully.

"I would have thought you learned your lesson last time, old man," Ogata sneered coolly at him.

"Ho ho ho ho! Says the one who wanted to bet on the boy anyway," Kuwabara replied with a mocking tilt of a bushy eyebrow.

"Hmph." Ogata did not deign to respond to the insinuating smirk.

"How about I let you get the first pick again this time, hmm?" His smile was positively wicked now. "So who would it be now? Touya's son, or that kid?" He puffed happily on his cigarette as he scanned Ogata's face. "It's not like anyone else has to know."

Ogata glowered at the old man for a long moment. One hand inched unconsciously towards his pack of cigarettes before he managed to divert it to his wallet. "Shindou's got potential, I'll give you that. But it's still too early for him to challenge Akira." Sniffing disdainfully, he pulled out a wad of bills and folded them in half in his left hand as the wallet was tucked back into a pocket with his right.

"And you would know that, wouldn't you?" the old man snickered. "I heard something very … _interesting_." He could practically hear the venom dripping as fangs arced back to strike. "Your Honinbou league game against Touya's son … degrading the lad when he's down – that's not very sporting, is it?" Kuwabara leaned forward and patted him patronisingly on the arm. "It's too early to let a title get to your head, Ogata-_kun_. Ho ho ho!"

"Are you the one to lecture me on sportsmanship, old man?" Ogata spat at him, emanating a cold fury. His fingers itched for a cigarette. _Damn it! That old geezer … trying to provoke me in a place like this_. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. A finger reached up to adjust his glasses. _I won't let him get to me; if I let his words affect me now, he'll turn it against me in the title matches._ "I won't be falling for any more of your tricks," he finally declared in cool, clipped tones; "Your intimidation tactics only reveal your own insecurity. I will be adding the Honinbou title to my name this year."

The old man's eyes narrowed for a long moment as they scrutinised him. Then, finally – "Just be sure you can defend your titles, huh, Ogata-kun? You wouldn't want your feet swept out from under you."

The doors suddenly swung open behind them. "– watching the match," came a young voice as a group trooped into view. Several pairs of startled eyes turned to glance at them as they filed past, bowing respectfully.

"Ogata-san?" A soft, mildly surprised voice piped up from behind the group.

"Akira-kun …" Ogata nodded at the boy. His eyes swept over the odd assortment of young Go players he had walked in with. _Well, well, well … looks like someone's learning to socialise a bit. That must be Shindou's influence too._ "And Shindou-kun – I'm looking forward to watching your game."

Hikaru had been walking beside Akira, and he stopped briefly to acknowledge the two men with a quick bow.

Ogata watched as the pair made their way towards the bulletin board. In terms of skill, he mused, Ko Yeong-Ha was still ahead, but he could understand Akira's obsession with Shindou Hikaru. When that boy played, endless possibilities seemed to open before him, and each move was like a tiny illumination lighting a path to some unknown destination.

_Tch. I didn't get to bet on him again._

On the far side of the room, the boys had finally made their way to the seating chart and found their names. Hikaru and Akira had taken their seats to mentally prepare for their upcoming game, while the rest milled around for a while longer.

"What's the matter, Waya?"

"Oh." Waya turned back to the group, startled out of his thoughts. "Ah, nothing much. I just noticed that Ogata-sensei and Kuwabara-sensei are betting again."

"Betting? On the Young Lions' Tournament?" Isumi asked, surprised. "I didn't think the pros were all that interested in this event. Although, I admit I haven't seen quite this many before. Not to mention someone like Kuwabara-sensei …."

"It's Shindou again, isn't it?" Ochi cut in suddenly, his voice harsh and laced with a measure of envious bitterness. "Shindou … and Touya Akira." His eyes slid over to the dark-haired boy.

Isumi looked at Ochi curiously for a moment before asking, "What is this about?"

Waya sighed and scratched his head tiredly. "The New Beginner Dan series last year. Both of them came to watch Shindou's match against Touya Meijin."

"Both of them?" Isumi's eyebrow shot up in surprise. The people who huddled in the live telecast room were generally insei friends and fellow new beginner dans who came as moral support. There would be an occasional pro or two who studied under the same mentor, but even so, the games were generally so low-profile that many did not find it worth their time.

"And Touya Akira too," Ochi muttered darkly. He still had goose bumps every time he recalled the boy's intensity as he replayed the terrifyingly overpowered game that came from Shindou Hikaru – or so he claimed. He had never seen Shindou demonstrate such unsurpassable strength, although his game against the Korean insei, the qualifying match against Yashirou, and the North Star Cup showed glimmers of it. And yet, ever since the pro-exams, he had known that Touya Akira was completely obsessed with the boy. It smarted dreadfully – but the sight of Shindou's and Yashirou's unconventional game had finally forced him to admit that he had fallen behind. Not that his pride was going to allow him to stay that way though.

"Kuwabara-sensei was the one who invited Ogata-sensei to bet on the outcome. And he picked Shindou."

The group gasped in collective disbelief as Waya shook his head. "Don't even bother thinking about it. I could add that Amano-san said Touya-sensei had requested the match-up himself" – Waya noted the bulging eyes and slack jaws detachedly – "but it'll just make your head hurt even more. We have our own games to focus on."

"Yeah," Honda agreed. "I'm up against Mashiba next – he looks to be in a bad mood."

The others followed his line of sight to see the red-haired man leaning against a wall, scowling and fidgeting nervously with his shirt collar.

"He barely eked out a win in the last round," Nase explained, keeping her voice discreetly low. "He was up against one of the top ranked insei."

"You'd better watch out," Waya prodded Honda playfully with his elbow, "He plays a mean game when he's in one of those moods."

Honda nodded with a firm resolve in his eyes. _Mashiba, huh? He's definitely not Shindou …if I get the first move, a first-hand tengen might just be enough here, if only to throw him off._ His hands clenched tightly into fists. _Do not fear – keep walking forward; keep learning. This is the unending path of the pro. _Those words had practically become a mantra to him these days, almost a lifeline when he felt himself drowning in the swelling waves made by the giants that surrounded him.

The loudspeaker crackled as a microphone turned on. "Participants who passed the first round, please find your seats."

Wordlessly, Hikaru and Akira picked up the go-ke on the board in front of them and placed them to the side. It didn't take long before a veritable crowd formed around them. The two rivals sat opposite each other in complete silence, unperturbed by the jostling and jockeying of the crowd. Akira's hands were placed neatly on his lap, eyes half-lidded as if in meditation. Hikaru was gripping his fan firmly in one hand, exuding a stillness that seemed incongruous against his lunchtime boisterousness.

"We will now start the second round. Please nigiri and begin."

In the sudden silence, the clatter of go stones echoed through the room.

_Odd. I'm black. _Hikaru took a deep breath and surveyed the board. Since his previous (and only) official game with Touya, they had played countless games together. He'd become familiar with Touya's style, and vice versa. Each other's strengths and weaknesses, preferences and dislikes – they both knew them all, and this game would prove to be more the challenging because they each knew _that_, too. To win, they both needed to push themselves beyond their current boundaries – it was going to be an unpredictable game.

_I'll have to show him a new thing or two._

Hikaru balanced a go stone delicately between his fingers, taking a moment to savour its cool, smooth touch before tapping it smartly down on the upper left star position. _Let's go, Touya!_

The opening hands flew by quickly; each of the boys had already decided on their opening strategy since the day they received their notices about the Young Lions' Tournament. Nevertheless, when Akira broke away from the jouseki to aggressively attack the stones in the upper right, Hikaru grinned unconsciously through his mask of deep concentration. Unpredictable game indeed.

Murmuring broke out among the crowd.

"Attacking so early?" one pro whispered quietly to a nearby colleague.

"That's unusual for Touya Akira," another man muttered, frowning. "His play is usually so patient and well-balanced."

Stones clicked in the go-ke as Hikaru pondered his next move. He could sense Touya's intensity and deadly calm without even looking up at the other boy. The hand his rival had just played was a confident, calculated move, and the lone white stone glittered boldly near its black neighbours, as if declaring, _I'm going to crush you._ A last click of the go stones, and Hikaru plunked one firmly on to the board, ignoring Touya's threat and going deep into his opponent's territory.

_And that_, Hikaru smirked with satisfaction, _says 'You can _try_.'_

The noise level rose almost exponentially in the room as the crowd watched, horrified, as Hikaru blithely ignored Akira's incursion into his upper right territory and responded with the attack of his own in the lower left corner.

"He's too cocky," one spectator concluded with a regretful sigh. "Did his first-board game against Ko Yeong-Ha get to his head? This could have been an interesting match if only he'd play a bit more cautiously. And I came all this way to watch this game too."

His friend tried to reassure him. "Perhaps it's just a case of the nerves, like his first game against China. It's Touya Akira, after all. And he did rally back impressively; that was a good game and worth watching."

A nearby young pro shook his head. "You can't just _ignore_ a threat like that, especially when it comes from Touya."

Amano listened carefully to the sibilant whisper of opinions being voiced around him. His meticulous notes took in both the state of the game and the state of the spectators – and the players themselves. And of what he could see, Touya-kun didn't even start when he saw Shindou-kun's move. On the contrary, there seemed to be a gleam in the boy's eye – a sharper look – and a tenser stiffness of the shoulders that bespoke of a battle that had only just begun.

Having carved out their intentions on to the board, the boys' stones ebbed and flowed as a pitched battle commenced on the two fronts. Lines connected and broke, shapes formed and transformed as traps within traps were laid out and stratagems unfurled. The undercurrent of doubt waned in the air, to be replaced by grudging respect as Hikaru fended off Akira's attacks and pressed his own. One moment, it seemed like Akira would be able to choke off his formation in the lower board, but in the next, Hikaru's stones appeared to flow around and connect, turning the tables on his opponent as they threatened stones near the center.

And sprung a trap that Akira had laid early in chuuban.

Onlookers gasped in awe as Akira played his hand. Beautiful, precise, cutting – it was a Touya Akira hand in every sense of the word. And many of these very same onlookers were well aware of its devastating power, how it was capable of destroying painstakingly-constructed shapes and the will to fight all in one fell swoop.

As Akira peered at the constellation of go stones before him, he could faintly hear the whispers of pros around him brushing at the edge of his consciousness.

"That's it, then," one declared softly with a tone of finality.

"That kid played an unexpectedly good game, but he's too green to challenge Touya Akira just yet," another responded in agreement.

"I don't know about that," a third interjected. "He's a very strong player, but I have to agree that Touya got the better of him this game."

Akira's fingers rubbed a go stone slowly as he pondered the board in deep concentration. It seemed like Shindou had fallen into the trap, but he knew better than to believe it. The few weak hands in the upper right were mere distractions as well. The seemingly dead cluster of stones nearby was going to be a threat, he sensed, and he was going to have to play carefully if he were going to succeed in cutting off all of Shindou's carefully-laid escape routes, for the other boy rarely stepped into one of his traps without having first planned how to get out – and turn the tide in his own favour.

From their innumerable past games, he'd found that, while he was able to outmaneuver Shindou more often than not, out-thinking him was a trickier proposition. The boy showed an ability to read the game as deeply as him, and only time and experience stood in the rapidly shrinking gulf between victory and defeat. And at the cusp of that gulf, Akira prowled, eyes searching for –

_There!_

_There._ Hikaru firmly laid down a black stone. The path he needed to take was going to be extremely tricky, with someone of Touya's caliber as his opponent, but only in such life-and-death moments could they transcend the game. Touya's response came unhesitatingly, and he knew that the other boy, too, was prepared for this final battle. Stones flowed as hand after hand was played like a well-rehearsed script. And then –

"Why did he do that??" Hushed voices suddenly broke out into whispers around them.

Hikaru gritted his teeth. He had miscalculated.

Hikaru had offered bait that was just one stone too inviting, and Touya had foreseen his intentions. The other boy had actually taken it, and in the process sacrificed a cluster of stones he would have otherwise saved.

"He couldn't possibly have missed that!" came one despairing moan.

"Touya had a strong lead already!" another added, "All he had to do was keep pressing until his opponent yields."

Isumi, Waya and Ochi had by this point wrapped up their games and moved to watch the Shindou-Touya match. "What do you think?" Waya whispered to his friends. Not that he studied Touya Akira's kifu religiously (_No way!_), but even he knew enough to notice that it was certainly unusual. The hands were aggressively powerful, with a threateningly deadly sort of elegance. Waya gulped nervously, feeling the tension crackling in the air, as he noted Shindou's unflinchingly intent stare at the go board.

Ochi glowered. "They're seeing something we're not," the short boy responded with a dark glare.

The timer ticked away relentlessly as minute after minute passed.

"I've lost."

The crowd started in surprise.

And then blinked again when they actually registered that it was _Shindou Hikaru_ who had yielded, and not Touya Akira. Confused murmurs welled up in the crowd as they tried to figure out what on earth had just happened.

The boy with bleached bangs ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I shouldn't have played a hane there. Is that when you figured it out?"

"No," Akira shook his head in response. "This was the only path you could have taken to victory, after all. However, if you had connected here instead …." He rearranged the stones on the board to demonstrate.

"But you could have gone here in response," replied Hikaru as he dug out another stone to prove his point, "and my shape wouldn't have been able to hold up to an attack in this corner."

"Why did you yield?" a man standing close to Hikaru's elbow suddenly interjected. "With Touya-kun's last play, you would have cut down his lead to a single moku, and if you then took his group _there_ and defended _there –_" the man's finger jabbed at the board as he spoke; "you would have taken the lead."

Akira shook his head again. "That was not his plan, you see." He leaned forward, plucking the decisive white stone that had ended the game, and placed it instead with the cluster he had sacrificed. "If I had saved this cluster …." Those words hung in the air as his delicate fingers picked up stone after stone, playing out the plan that Hikaru had laid out. The noise level rose slowly as various individuals in the audience gradually caught on.

When the boy wrapped up his explanation, Hikaru waved a dismissive hand over the board. "But then Touya saw that the crux of the play was right _here_. He thwarted it by sacrificing his stones _there_ and instead took the bait that I actually needed for the final step." He sighed deeply and admitted, "If we continued, by the end of yose, I would have lost by one moku."

Amano had to remind himself to breathe as he hastily jotted down the two boys' post-game explanations. Neither he nor the audience had expected such an intricate game. It was both recklessly daring and composedly calculated. It was what he had hoped for, and yet entirely unexpected.

So _this_ is the future of Go. He took a moment to wipe his sweating palm against his pants before continuing to write.

ooo

Amano cleared his throat, and the crowd subsided for the respected editor of the Weekly Go. Clicking on his pen and resting the tip expectantly on a page of his open notebook, he adjusted his glasses and asked, "This might be a bit unusual, but I'd like to interview the two of you together right here, if you don't mind." Shindou didn't look too distressed from his defeat, so he didn't anticipate a refusal.

The two boys nodded wordlessly.

He ordered his thoughts for a moment before he spoke. "Touya-kun," he began, turning first to the smartly-dressed boy, "For a long time, there have been rumours that you view Shindou-kun as your rival. For the record," Amano peered at the pair owlishly, "is this true?" A sudden hush fell like a heavy blanket around him.

Personally, he knew it was true; from the moment it was first brought to his attention by Ogata-sensei, he had been followed by a tense Touya Akira impatient for word of the pro exam results, and saw this confirmed when Touya-kun had accepted Shindou-kun's challenge on the eve of his return to the pro world.

Not many doubted Shindou-kun's ability after his performance at the North Star Cup, but most still did not perceive him as being on equal standing with Touya Akira. Even fewer would believe that this vaunted star of the new generation would ever deign to view a peer as his rival, especially when he was already hot on the heels of the veterans at the top of the Go world. Amano wanted them to accept it, and feel the same surge of optimism he felt at the impending revitalisation of Japanese Go.

Akira blinked in surprise and replied the only way he could when bluntly confronted with such an unexpected question – with the truth. "Yes." Urgent, excited whispers rippled through the assembled crowd upon hearing his calm, unperturbed pronouncement. Among the new pros, Waya stared at the slight boy in disbelief as Ochi only gritted his teeth harder. _I had to work so hard, and tried to bargain with him just to get him to notice me,_ the latter thought bitterly, _and yet here he acknowledges a rival like he's answering a question about the weather_ ….

"So, Touya-kun, when did you first see Shindou-kun as a rival?"

"Hmm," Akira leaned back into his chair, his eyes distant and reflective, "indeed .…"

This was a difficult question, and in many ways, a very personal one. While those around him and the patrons of his father's Go salon were aware of his first encounters with Shindou Hikaru, the games themselves seemed to remain a deep secret the two of them shared. Well, and Ochi, to whom he had revealed the second game. Within those two precious games, however, lay the secret of Shindou and Sai; with those two games, he was confident that he knew more about Shindou and Sai than anyone else – and he wasn't sure whether he was ready or willing to share that.

"From the first time we played," he responded finally. _That should be a good compromise. _

"From … the … first … time … they … played," Amano murmured as he wrote the words down. "Ah, your first match-up against Shindou-kun was this past autumn, wasn't it?" he asked absently, his pen scratching against the paper of his notebook.

The silence seemed to widen to Akira as he contemplated whether to just nod, or to correct the man. It wasn't like there was any need for the history of his acquaintance with Shindou to be a secret but there was something about making it a media titbit that seemed to defile the strange bond that had dragged them, kicking and screaming, together. But, it was also against his nature to lie, and Amano-san _did_ phrase it as a question.

"It was about three and a half years ago," he responded slowly and reluctantly.

Surprised at being corrected, Amano glanced up at the boy for a moment before jotting the numbers down. His brow scrunched up as he tried to work out the dates in his head. Frowning, he muttered, "Isn't that even before you took the pro exam? Shindou-kun wasn't even an insei then …."

Nearby, Hikaru's friends eyed each other uncomfortably. They still remembered the rumour that went around when he had first become an insei – and they also remembered his unpolished play. What did Touya Akira see in him at that time? Or rather, what did he see that all of them had failed to notice? Only Ochi did not turn to look at the rest of his peers; he knew exactly what Touya Akira was referring to.

Meanwhile, Hikaru fidgeted nervously in his seat. He was uncomfortable with this line of questioning, especially since it had been Sai that Touya chased for the longest time.

Amano noticed him shift anxiously, and decided that any further questions of such nature could wait for a more private moment. The two boys would probably be more forthcoming if they were comfortable with his discretion. Changing tack, he asked instead, "You appear to be quite familiar with each other's playing style. Did you spend a lot of time preparing for this match by studying each other's kifus? Or, I guess, as rivals, you've always studied each other's games?"

"Of course they are familiar with each other's style," the reporter Kosemura interrupted with a superior, knowing grin. "They took a week off before the North Star Cup to practice."

Amano nodded as he wrote that down.

Hikaru groaned inwardly. Morishita-sensei was going to throw an absolute_ fit_ when he read this week's edition of the Weekly Go. Consorting with the enemy! Treason! He was going to get more than an earful for this. Probably several good doses of scary-faced Morishita from across the go board. Nevertheless, he nodded wordlessly (after throwing a warning glare at the too-honest-for-his-own-good Touya), somewhat grateful that the man's answer had relieved him of the need to mention their regular games at Touya's Go salon.

Waya watched quietly as the two boys answered the reporter's questions – one a friend, the other, a foe – or so he'd always thought. But just as unexpected and unbelievable as it was to see Touya Akira treating Shindou as a peer worthy of respect, it was getting increasingly difficult to hold on to his antagonism. That in itself was a bit disconcerting, as that stoked anger was among the powerful driving forces that kept propelling him forward in the professional Go world. He dredged his memories and drew up that most potent source of resentment – the pro exam – and his thoughts resumed on the track they had lodged themselves into earlier in the day.

At the amateur tournament, Sai had seemingly homed in on the handle 'Akira' and issued a challenge, which was most unusual. Unlike most skilled Net Go players, Sai had been what one could call an equal-opportunity opponent. He was a voracious player who took on anyone of any skill level. He rarely played anyone a second time, if only due to the flood of players who wished to challenge him.

Had Sai been deliberately trying to play Touya Akira? 'Akira' could have been anyone, and yet…. The silent, mysterious Sai who never spoke (except to utter that unbelievably childish boast to him) had immediately responded to Touya's request for a game with a specific date. The strangeness of these memories were just too much.

An elbow jabbed painfully in his side. "Ouch!" Waya exclaimed in annoyance as he jerked his mind back to the present. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Why are you all zoned out like that?" Isumi asked with a gentle smile. "Come, the interview's done and Shindou is clamouring for ramen."

Waya grinned as he saw the other boy waving energetically at them. Touya Akira, on the other hand, was ensconced in a group with Ogata-sensei and Ashiwara-san. "You're the only one who lost, Shindou," he declared with a fiendish smirk, "so we're having _sushi_ and you're going to treat us."

"Noooo!" Hikaru's protesting wails bounced off the walls as the group dragged him out of the hall.

As Amano pocketed his reporter notebook with great satisfaction and moved to leave the competition hall, he noticed that, within the shifting crowd, Kuwabara Honinbou stood unmoving and still. The old man was facing the hall's double doors but his eyes seemed to be staring blankly into empty space. "Kuwabara-sensei?" Amano said with a respectful hesitance. "Kuwabara-sensei, is something the matter?"

The old man blinked a couple of times when he heard his name called. "Ah, Amano-kun, I was just thinking," he responded in a rough voice. "Don't mind the antics of an old geezer like me."

"Don't say that, Kuwabara-sensei!" Amano protested immediately. "The Go world respects your insights greatly." One hand fingered the pen he had slipped back into his pocket. He could sense something here – a story, perhaps. Or maybe some startling new perspective. He could feel his heart begin to race as he continued, "Please share your thoughts. Is it about the game that was just played?"

Kuwabara rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "He's different."

"Different?" Amano echoed in surprise. Kuwabara-sensei was always rather unpredictable. "Who?"

"That kid," came the unhelpful response.

Amano resisted the urge to scratch his head. Did he mean Touya-kun? Or Shindou-kun? But Touya-kun's game has always been very polished, even as his play has become deeper and deeper. On the other hand ….

"Ah, you mean Shindou-kun?" he hazarded a guess.

The old man nodded.

"Well, he's certainly different from before his string of defaults from last summer," Amano concurred hesitantly, when it didn't seem like the Go master would elaborate. "There's an intensity and drive that …

Kuwabara had a faraway look in his eyes as he interrupted the rambling reporter. "His aura is different. How very, very intriguing."

The old man walked away slowly, leaving a very puzzled-looking reporter behind him.

* * *

April 6 2007

Finally! This chapter has been a very, very long time coming. The gap between chapters 7 and 8 might have been longer time-wise, but getting the Hikaru-Akira match written has really been the main block even before chapter 8 was posted.

I'd like to thank everyone for the very encouraging reviews. I must admit I write only when fancy catches hold of me, and that Dreamweaver's review really spurred me into finally pushing out the Hikaru-Akira match in order to say: Don't worry! I want to see that Go salon scene too! It's planned to be around another six or so chapters into the story – although I'm not sure how long it'll take me to get there either.


	12. Chapter 10: And Then There Were Two

Chapter 10: And Then There Were Two

The Weekly Go had dedicated the entire front page to coverage of just the first day of the Young Lions' Tournament. A big bold headline dominated the page:

**Touya Akira's Rival Appears**

A faint smile crinkled the man's worn face.

"_This year's Young Lions' Tournament heralded the arrival of a new wave in the Go world. Even within the first two rounds, the games played this year were passionate and powerful as the newest pros demonstrated their overwhelming strength, and none more so than the Round 2 game between Touya Akira-3 dan and Shindou Hikaru-beginner dan."_

Next to the paragraph was a photo of the two boys locked in battle over the goban. The same intense concentration was mirrored in both faces – eyes fixed on the pattern of stones before them, frows burrowed in deep thought, and lips tight in the tension of the moment. The man nodded approvingly. His son had always loved Go with a deep respect for the game that made him such an implacable presence in front of the board, but it was only with the arrival of Shindou into the equation that Akira's _passion_ had surfaced. Indeed, a good rival was a relentless driving force – one could never stand still in their presence. _Even for me, as old as I am. The appearance of a worthy rival has reinvigorated Touya Kouyo's game._ He continued to read:

"_Knowledgeable insiders in the Go community have had their eye on this match up from the start, billing it as _the_ game to watch. Indeed, many prominent Go masters were present to observe this long-awaited public match between the two rising young stars, most notably Kuwabara Honinbo and Ogata 10 dan, Gosei."_

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully upon reading the names. Kuwabara-sensei had been present at Shindou-kun's New Beginner Dan series game, he had heard afterwards. Ogata-kun had seemed a bit nonplussed by the old man's confidence in his so-called sixth sense, but he himself knew well that one's intuition built up from experience after experience. Not in a conscious way like learning, but in ways woven into one's very being, delicate threads resonating to subconscious cues. The intuition of someone as deeply entrenched in the world of Go as Kuwabara-sensei was not something to be lightly dismissed. Nor could he dismiss his own, for that matter.

He closed his eyes. It had been over a year, but he could still remember the oppressive aura of the New Beginner Dan series game and the Net Go match against Sai. And even as time threatened to dull his memory, he could still recall the sensation with startling clarity. There was no use thinking logically about it, and in times like these, he knew that he had to fall back on his instincts. And those instincts had told him that those auras were one and the same – and with that, two pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place: the handicap that Shindou Hikaru had placed on himself in that New Beginner Dan series game made sense in light of the profound brilliance of Sai's play. Shindou Hikaru …

"… _aged 15, first burst into prominence a little over a week ago, when he challenged Korea's top youth player Ko Yeong-Ha at the first board game at the North Star Cup. Fresh from his near victory and an international début that turned many heads, he now had the chance to lay down the gauntlet before his North Star Cup team mate Touya Akira."_

The girl smiled fondly. It was hard to imagine that the cheeky, irresponsibly lazy boy she knew in elementary school had transformed into such an intense, driven professional Go player in the space of the three years of junior high school. It was even harder to wrap her mind around the idea that he was now considered one of the top young pros in the country, and practically on par with young pros on an international level. _And that bleached hair doesn't help things either_, she thought in fond exasperation. Smiling to herself, she turned her attention back to the Weekly Go.

"_In a battle many considered worthy of the final round, the two played a dangerous game with a depth unapparent to much of the seasoned crowd. Shindou-beginner dan, playing black, started the game with a classical opening, but it was not long before Touya-3 dan broke out of the jouseki in a daring attack unusually early in the game. Observers familiar with Touya-3 dan's style were perplexed with this unexpectedly unconventional play, and were further astonished to see Shindou-beginner dan respond to the assault by challenging his opponent deep into his territory. _

"Fujisaki-san?"

Akari looked up to see another girl looming over her. "Oh! Good afternoon, Miyama-senpai." The other girl was an upperclassman member of the Go club here at Teizan High. Unlike Haze Junior High, this school had a well-established Go club with about twenty-some members and the faculty sponsor was a strong enough player to act as a mentor for the club members.

"Something interesting in the Weekly Go? You've been so absorbed you didn't even hear me call you the first time."

"Oh," Akari blushed lightly. "I was just reading about the first day of the Young Lions' Tournament." She held up the newspaper in front of the other girl to show the dedicated front page.

"Ah, hmm.…" Miyama Rina nodded slowly as her eyes scanned the article. "It's not really a big event for the Go professional world, but it is one of the few dedicated to non-professional Go players our age." She grinned widely. "It's one of those things that inspire us, isn't it? Watching how far people our age can go. Who knows, maybe it'll inspire one of us here to become an insei."

Akari merely nodded with a polite smile. _I know someone who did that already – and more!_

"So, the great Touya Akira has found a rival, huh?" said a new voice from behind them.

"Hello, Haraya-kun," Miyama greeted the boy as he peered more closely at the article. "You've read the article already?"

"No, but it's impossible to miss such a boastful headline right there. Shindou Hikaru, is it? Hmph, I've heard about him. Didn't he lose both his matches in the North Star Cup? How can someone like Touya Akira see him as a rival?" The boy shrugged dismissively.

Akari leapt up from her seat indignantly. "It's true too! Touya-kun would come around to our school to look for Hikaru back then! And if you'd actually read the article properly, Touya-kun states it outright as well!"

A boyish voice chuckled softly near the small group. "Incredible, isn't it?"

"Tsutsui-senpai!" Akari started in surprise before smiling in welcome at the former president of the Haze Junior High Go club. "Have you seen the Weekly Go? There's a whole article about Hikaru's latest game – on the front page!"

Tsutsui Kimiharo nodded enthusiastically in response. "I did; it's amazing isn't it? Ahh, I'm so jealous!"

Haraya looked at them with a raised eyebrow. "You two know this Shindou Hikaru?"

Akari nodded awkwardly and looked away. "Well, our houses are nearby, so we've been friends since we were young." She picked at the hem of her skirt, finding herself inexplicably self-conscious all of a sudden. "He suddenly picked up Go just a bit before we entered junior high, and I kind of tagged along …." Her voice trailed off as her cheeks started to heat up.

"He joined our school's Go club; we were so small we had to drag random people in to have the numbers to field a team at the annual tournament." Tsutsui smiled fondly at the memory. "In no time at all, he was already stronger than me, and then sure enough, he was soon speeding past Mitani too." His eyes held a faraway look as he seemed to forget about his audience. "Then he decided to take the insei exam. And now he's so far beyond us, playing with the pros …. How strange life is, sometimes …."

"Wow," Miyama breathed, "And he's among the top new pros already? That's amazing." She eyed Akari calculatingly and continued, "I say, I don't suppose he attends high school?"

Akari shook her head with a trace of disappointment. "No, he didn't bother to take any entrance exams. He's devoting all his time to Go now." _I hardly see him these days either_, she thought to herself ruefully.

"He has to play every day?" Haraya asked.

"No, it seems like there are specific match days that he has to keep free, and he has some study sessions he attends regularly."

"Hmmmm …" Miyama pursed her lips speculatively. "So some people in our club have strong ties to an up-and-coming young pro … you don't suppose.…" She left her words hanging in the air as she looked alternately between Akari and Tsutsui.

"If you're wondering whether Hikaru could come by, I've already asked him before we graduated and he said he'd be happy to visit the Go club I'm in and tutor us," Akari responded eagerly with a bright smile.

"Oh? That sounds interesting," came a solemn, quiet voice.

"Ah, Gendai-sempai!" the three bowed hastily. "I-I didn't mean to do something like this without your permission," Akari stammered nervously.

The new arrival raised a hand and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I think it's a great idea too." The long-haired, dignified third year was the captain of the girls' Go team, as well as the club president. A wily and calculating player, she had long bemoaned the quality of Go within the female circuit and was well-known for her strident declarations that there was no good reason for females to be weaker players than males. Ever since she became president, she had vigorously lain out training programmes for the club as a whole, and Akari's own skill had grown significantly ever since she joined.

"I'd be grateful if you could make a request to Shindou Hikaru for us," the club president continued. "We've never tried hiring a pro for a tutoring session, but I think it would be a good learning experience for everyone. I'm pretty sure our club funds are sufficient to cover the expenses."

"Ah, don't worry about that. Hikaru says he'd do it for free. I think he's missed being in a school Go club," Akari laughed happily. "How about some time next week? I'll see if he's free."

Gendai nodded. "Please ask him then." She looked around the room, noting the students starting to trickle in. Clapping her hands briskly, she called the members to order and directed them to begin setting up for the day's session.

A light breeze rustled the pages of the Weekly Go as windows were vigorously opened to let in the warming coolness of May. The bustling sound of activity filled the club room as Go sets were retrieved and arranged with careful tenderness. Only the tendrils of air brushing against the newspaper touched the next few lines ….

"_Despite being backed into a complex trap, Shindou-beginner dan was able to maintain his momentum, laying down the foundations for his own traps as he broke free from Touya-3 dan's seeming stranglehold on his formation. Observers were shocked when Touya-3 dan took bait that was obviously a trap, but it soon became apparent that the two opponents had read the game to an unparalleled depth."_

"That's my boy!" a red-haired man boomed noisily to no one in particular. "You show 'em how it's done!" His fingers itched to sink themselves into a certain fluffy head of hair, but in its absence, he made do with scrunching up the Weekly Go in a spasm of delight.

"Kawai-san! Not the Weekly Go again! I still haven't read it!" moaned a thin, scraggly man from the far corner as he glanced up from the game he was playing. Setting down his cigarette, he strode hastily over and snatched the newspaper from the man's hand.

"Doumoto-san!" the man yelled again in annoyance, "I'm not done reading it yet! Give it back!" With exaggerated motions, he grabbed the Weekly Go back and hugged it possessively. The other patrons in the Go salon looked up from their games and chuckled at their antics.

"So, what's the kid up to?" Soga, a bald, tiny man, huffed on his cigarette and asked curiously.

"Hah! Listen to this!" Kawai waved around the newspaper to gather the attention of everyone in the salon (not that he hadn't already succeeded with his rowdiness) before snapping it open again smartly. "Even the great Touya Akira recognises our Shindou's skill!"

Chairs creaked as the salon patrons leaned back to listen to the man read the Weekly Go out loud. And behind the counter, a woman sighed resignedly. _They never grow up_.

"_Commenting on the game, Ogata Seiji 10 dan, Gosei noted that both players' ability to anticipate the other's moves contributed to__ the unconventional flow of the match. Indeed, the pair had become well-acquainted with each other's play style through their frequent practice games in the week leading up to the North Star Cup."_

_Sluuurp._

Kurata Atsushi gulped down the last of the delicious ramen soup and plunked the bowl back down on the table with a satisfied smack of his lips. "One more ramen, please!" he waved a hand and shouted to the proprietor before turning his attention back to the Weekly Go spread out in front of him. His gaze brushed over the startling headline one more time. _So, rivals, are they?_ His thoughts flew back to the one-colour Go game against Shindou – that day when he had finally felt in his bones the creeping sensation that, if he slowed down at all, he would be completely run over and left in the dust. He also recalled how, after his visit to the newly-retired Touya-sensei, he had warned the eager Touya Akira that he had to look out behind him as well.

Kurata guffawed loudly, ignoring the brief startled glances that the other patrons shot at him. To think that the boy knew that already! And there he thought he was doing the overly-ambitious boy a favour, warning him before he got completely blindsided by an unexpected foe._ To have already anticipated the power of a new pro – he's a Touya, indeed!_

The delightful scent of newly-prepared ramen wafted across his nostrils. "Here you go, Kurata-sensei," the server smiled warmly as he plunked down another bowl.

"Thanks!" he replied with a happy grin and dove back into eating and the Weekly Go.

"_Ever since the former Meiji Touya Kouyo personally requested a match with Shindou Hikaru in the New Beginner Dan series, a rumour had been circulating about how Touya Akira and Shindou Hikaru considered each other rivals. Although most considered the rumour to be of little substance, Touya Akira confirmed the truth of this after winning the match, acknowledging that the two were rivals. He revealed that this rivalry, rather than being a recent development on the pro circuit as most would expect, has its roots reaching back to the days before he had even become a pro."_

Handfuls of noodles were carefully strained and lowered into a steaming pot. A plethora of condiments followed, and upon replacing the cover, the pot boiled merrily away on a well-kept stove top. The pungent aroma of chopped scallions lingered in the air, mixed with the refreshing scent of detergent. Setting herself down comfortably at a nearby table, Shindou Mitsuko dried her hands on her spotless apron and continued to peruse the first page of the Weekly Go. Her eyes flew over the length of the article, as if willing it to yield answers about the little boy she had raised for fifteen years.

"_This long personal rivalry has apparently been a strong driving force in the development of their Go. Shindou Hikaru revealed that it was his pursuit of Touya Akira that lead him to join the insei and eventually on to the path of the professional Go player."_

Mitsuko sighed. It saddened her that, in two sentences, this article contained more information about Hikaru's motivations for playing the game than he had ever told her. And there was so much he never told her – she could feel it. One might call it a mother's instinct, but the unspoken truths were too blatant for that. She grimaced as her line of thought led her to recall Hikaru's unexpected descent into an apathetic sort of depression for several months. It had frightened her terribly that she had no idea what was going on in her son's life, that he had only brushed off her concerns and reassured her that he was 'alright'.

Her observations had led her to conclude that Hikaru's problems had something to do with Go (how could it not have been obvious?). Upon his return to the Go world, she had taken out a subscription to the Weekly Go, as if it could give insight into this son that was almost a stranger to her. She only read it when Hikaru wasn't around to see, however, since he'd always get annoyed at how she maintained her own subscription with the Weekly Go and was reading the articles even though she didn't understand a first thing about the game. But he was her only child, she had insisted, and what parent didn't care about what her child got into?

The shrill ring of the kitchen timer reminded her that the noodles were ready, and Hikaru would soon come clamouring down the stairs for his favourite ramen. Listening intently for any sign of Hikaru leaving his room, she hurriedly picked up a pair of scissors from one of the kitchen drawers and lovingly clipped out the front page as well as the results page containing the past week's 'oteai matches' – whatever they were. Her son had won his game again, of course.

The doorbell suddenly rang. "Coming!" she called out as she looked up from her handiwork. She fondly brushed her fingers over the paper before slipping them inside a cardboard box containing older clippings, and then tucked the box back into its snug little spot next to her favourite recipe books. Then, tucking the Weekly Go away in a newspaper hamper, she walked into the hallway and answered the door.

"Akari-chan!" she exclaimed, pleased, when she saw the young girl standing in front of the entrance. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Akari replied with a polite bow. "And you, obasan?"

"As good as ever. I'm getting used to how quiet this house has become, I suppose." Hikaru's mother sighed dramatically as she laid out a pair of slippers for the girl and ushered her over the threshold.

Akari smiled in commiseration. Even though it had been a while, this new quiet, focused and surprisingly mature Hikaru was still rather difficult for her to come to terms with. "Is Hikaru in?"

"Hikaru is in his room; why don't you go on up?" She gestured to the stairs as she moved towards the kitchen. "I'll bring you snacks and some tea in a moment."

"Thank you very much, obasan." Akari's slippers scuffed lightly on the stairs as she made her way to Hikaru's room. Knocking on a familiar door, she called out, "Hikaru?"

There was a swooshing sound, like someone bouncing off a soft mattress, and the door opened to reveal the angular lines of a face that was once so familiar to her. Her breath hitched briefly when it struck her how much her dear friend had grown and matured in the last year.

"Akari!" came the surprised yelp. His boyish voice seemed to waver between child and adult in the single word. "What are you doing here?"

_He still needs to learn some manners_, Akari thought; it was somehow reassuring that there were some things that would never change.

"Can't I come by to visit?" she demanded in a mock-aggressive voice.

"Umm, yes, I guess …." Hikaru replied, scratching his head and moving away from the entrance to let her in.

As she moved to walk in she hesitated a bit and asked self-consciously, "Are you in the middle of something? Am I disturbing you?"

"Just looking through some kifu," the boy responded, "It never ends anyway; I can take a break." He tossed the book he was holding back onto the bed, and dropped onto the floor with a loud plop.

Akari looked around the room curiously as she walked in. It had been a long time since she was last in Hikaru's room. Little seemed to have changed, except for large stacks of the Weekly Go and a much fuller bookshelf. Seating herself down neatly on the floor opposite the boy, she smiled at the boy in front of her.

"I read that article about you in the Weekly Go," she began warmly. "You're really something, Hikaru!"

"Che; I lost. Nothing grand about that." Hikaru wove his fingers behind his head and leaned back against his bed. "I'll win eventually though."

Akari nodded encouragingly. "I won't be surprised when you do. You've improved so much in such a short time."

She was rewarded with a brief glimmer in Hikaru's eyes. "So, what brings you here?" he asked her, not unkindly.

"Oh, I remember you saying that you'd be willing to help out at the Go club on occasion," she started shyly. "So, umm … I was wondering whether you would mind coming over to visit my school's Go club sometime and playing shidou-go with us? Maybe next week or something?"

"The Go club, huh" Hikaru grinned broadly. "It's been so long since I've heard that." His brow furrowed in thought for a moment. "Well, let's see," he muttered to himself, "There's the kifu study session on Monday, Morishita's on Tuesday afternoons, lower dan games on Wednesdays, games against upper dan on Thursdays, Touya's Go salon on Thursday evenings, and then Waya's study group on Saturdays …." Hikaru scratched his head apologetically. "It seems like my only guaranteed free day is on Fridays."

Akari's smile was tinged with a bit of melancholy when she replied, "You're so busy these days, aren't you? I'm sorry for bothering you about this."

"Ah, it's not like that," he hurriedly corrected her. "Even though I set aside Wednesdays and Thursdays for Institute games, I don't necessarily have a game scheduled every week. Actually," Hikaru stood up and reached over to his desk to flick through his calendar, "I won't have any games next week either. Hmm, but since Touya doesn't have a game next Thursday as well, we planned to spend the whole afternoon at Touya's Go salon. So Wednesday works, if you want to go with that."

Akari nodded hurriedly. "I'll ask the club president tomorrow, and I'll call and let you know?"

"Ah, wait, Akari. How many people are in the Go club?"

"About twenty. A far cry from Haze, isn't it?" she replied enthusiastically.

"About twenty, huh?" Hikaru chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. "That _is_ a lot." Suddenly, he bolted upright, startling Akari into spilling a spot of tea onto her skirt.

"Hikaru!"

The boy chortled ominously as he grabbed his phonebook and dashed to the door. "I need a little helper!" Punctuated thumps on the stairs accompanied his yell as he sped to the phone on the first floor.

"Hikaru!" came a long-suffering reprimand from the kitchen. "Don't run down the stairs like that!"

"Yes mom!" he chanted absently as he picked up the phone and dialled a number.

ooo

The ringing tones of the phone echoed through a still hallway.

"Hello, Touya residence." A feminine voice greeted him in dignified, measured tones.

_Must be Touya's mother_, Hikaru thought with a start. "Good evening," he responded with unusual decorum. "Is Touya Akira home?"

"Yes, he is," she responded, her voice not revealing her surprise. Although her son received many phone calls from the Go Institute, it was extremely rare to hear such a young voice ask to speak to him on the phone. The realisation saddened her, and with more than just a touch of curiosity, she asked, "May I ask who is calling?"

"This is Shindou Hikaru."

"Ah." The woman smiled gently. That name was not entirely new to her. It was the boy both her husband and son seemed to be greatly interested in. No wonder the voice sounded somewhat familiar; she recalled that he had visited her husband during his stay at the hospital. Pleased, she added, "Of course, Shindou-san, I'll go call him."

Placing the phone down carefully next to the cradle, she walked towards her son's room near the rear of the house. "Akira-san?" she called out softly, so as not to disturb her husband in his study. "Akira-san? Shindou Hikaru is on the phone for you."

A door slid open, and a mildly surprised face poked out. "Shindou?" Akira thanked his mother with a quick nod and headed towards the phone. _I wonder what he wants_, he mused idly. Although the two met every week at his father's Go salon and at the Go Institute when their schedules coincided, neither felt the need to extend their acquaintance to tedious phone conversations. It wasn't like they could play Go on the phone, and game discussions were just meant to be done face-to-face.

"Hello, Shindou?"

"Hey, Touya," a familiar voice replied with thinly-veiled excitement.

"What can I do for you?" Akira asked politely, despite how warning bells were starting to clamour in the back of his mind.

"Care to be my assistant for a day?" came the gleefully cheeky reply.

"Assistant? To you?" the boy raised both his fine eyebrows and voice in mild incredulity. "And tell me, why would I want to do that?" He remembered just in time to keep his voice low, so as not to disturb his father who was studying in a room nearby.

"Well, actually," Hikaru switched back to a more serious mode, "Akari came over and asked me if I'd visit her Go club at school and play shidou-go. It's a fairly large club, and I figured it would be more fun with two people."

"Oh."

Akira found himself a bit speechless. _Why is he inviting me instead of those friends from his insei days?_ Akira couldn't help but wonder._ Or did he try them already and couldn't get them to agree?_ The question hung on the tip of his tongue, yet he was strangely reluctant to ask.

As if sensing his hesitation, the other boy continued, "Isumi-san and Waya are too normal. It'll be a perfectly bland shidou-go session." Akira could have sworn he heard a low chuckle before Shindou apparently caught himself. A vein threatened to pop on Akira's forehead as he imagined the impudent grin that would most certainly be adorning the boy's face at the moment.

"Shindou .…" he growled impatiently.

"Alright, alright! Well, there's also the fact that I probably should invite both of them if I invite one or the other. Three pros would be a bit overwhelming for a school club, don't you think?"

_And the two of us won't be?_ Akira thought dryly, but did not voice his disagreement. If he were to ignore his discomfort for the topic, he knew his fame rivalled those of title-holders, especially among the younger players. While he could handle fame and recognition just fine, and of course it made sure skilled upper dans played against him with everything they had, he would have been happy with a little less attention. He was of half a mind to warn Shindou to enjoy his relative anonymity while it lasted, because the way the other boy seemed headed, that anonymity was sure to run out before the year was over. Or the next week, depending on the reaction to the Weekly Go article.

"Come on, what do you say?" Hikaru pressed on happily when no response was forthcoming. "It'll be fun to do something different once in a while! I'm free Fridays, so if you don't have anything next week, we should go then. Or if you have something scheduled, we can meet up at Akari's school instead of your dad's Go salon next Thursday. Or we could do Wednesday, if you don't have a game scheduled."

Akira exhaled silently. The boy just wasn't going to listen to any objections, that much was obvious. He didn't particularly enjoy playing shidou-go; it was just something he did as a pro, and there were others out there who were more inclined towards teaching. _Or bootlicking_, he reminded himself cynically. Nor did he have particularly fond associations with the phrase "school Go club".

"Touya?" The inquiring voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"Well … umm …." Akira tried to stall for a bit more time. Did he really want to go? Or perhaps the question should be, did he really _not_ want to go? He could not deny that Shindou's unexpected invitation had warmed him, stirred up a part of him that insisted that he _did _rather crave the company of those his age.

"Alright, I'll go," Akira conceded, to loud cheering from Shindou's end of the line. Holding the earpiece slightly away from his battered eardrums, he continued, "I don't have anything scheduled for next week, but Wednesday is probably best."

"Wednesday, right," Shindou muttered slowly, and Akira could hear the light scratching of pencil against paper. "I'll let Akari know, and I'll tell you the final decision on Saturday."

"You'll be coming to watch the next round?" Akira asked, slightly surprised, although he realised belatedly that he shouldn't really have been.

"Well, yes, of course. You're still in it, and so are Waya and Isumi-san and Honda-san and Ochi and …. " the boy's voice trailed off as he tried to recall which of his friends had made it to the third round of the Young Lions' Tournament.

"Hmm," Akira hummed contemplatively, "I think Honda-san is my opponent for the next round."

"Really? I'll have to watch your game then – I think you'll enjoy it too. He played against Yashiro once, you know? Yashiro played a first-hand tengen against him, and he later tried it on me during one of the qualifying rounds for the North Star Cup."

Akira nodded, his interest piqued. While Yashiro still lacked the strength to carry through with his defiantly unorthodox openings, he still thought it an exhilarating break from routine to see fresh opening hands. "And you think Honda-san will try something like that against me?" he asked curiously.

"Nah," Shindou responded, "Well, not a first-hand tengen anyway. But I think Yashiro inspired him to play less conservatively. And given that the results don't affect our records, I can practically promise you a refreshing change from your oteai games."

Akira smiled inwardly, remembering the brilliant game Shindou had played against Yashiro to win a place on Team Japan months earlier. He would have liked to play such a game. To his regret, the training for the North Star Cup had focused on solidifying Yashiro's midgame, and there had been neither time nor opportunity for such adventurous play. "I'll be looking forward to it then," he replied sincerely.

Touya Kouyo looked up briefly as he heard Akira's light footfalls pass by the study back towards his room. Although the boy's conversation had been hushed for the most part, sound travelled well in this traditional home, and he knew it was his son's declared rival on the other end of the line. It lightened his heart to know that his son had found his own path, and an equal to walk it with. The dawn of the next generation has truly arrived.

Even so, his own days were now filled with new, fresh challenges and he felt rejuvenated, with a renewed sense of purpose and direction. Yet on deep, deep nights like these, when he sat alone in the study of his home, listening to the calming tapping of the souzu and waiting in silence in front of a Go board with only darkness sitting across him, he felt a crushingly intense sense of emptiness. The bare Go board reminded him starkly of unanswered possibilities. He sighed as a ghostly whisper seemed to read out the last words of the Weekly Go's front page article in the silence of his mind:

"_Kuwabara Honinbou has been known to say, 'A masterful game of Go requires two equals.'"

* * *

_

December 28, 2007

Thank you very much for all the reviews and encouraging comments. The slew of story alert requests and reviews really helped me push this chapter out, finally. Thanks also to JMJV and harukohaha for their correction of 'obaasan' to 'obasan'.

A few points:

1. A 'souzu' is the term for the bamboo decoration for garden ponds that fill up with water and make clacking sounds. If anyone knows of a proper English term for it (that doesn't sound unwieldy), I would be very happy to hear it.

2. I don't know the names of the owner and the woman in the Go salon that Hikaru likes to visit. I'd appreciate it if someone knows and can fill me in.

3. I introduced a few original characters here, but have no worries. They have no real bearing on the story, and are named simply because they need names. And there's a female club president just because the Go scene is just so dominated by males – and do women really need an easier bracket?

4. I'm not a journalist, and I don't really know if the article excerpts (yes, they're just excerpts; I originally planned to write out the entire article, but changed my mind) sound like something from a proper news bulletin or not.

5. An extra point, since a reviewer brought it up: Akira's mother does use the honorific 'san' to address her son. Odd, I know, but it's a very traditional sort of household, I guess. Or maybe she's a stepmother ...


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